


Back to the Future

by Caruscus



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Future, Hurt/Comfort, OC is a doctor, Protective, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Burn, Strong Arthur, You've been warned, and just want him to be happy, cowboy, sexy cowboys, there will be spoilers in this later on, we all love Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:29:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 225,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caruscus/pseuds/Caruscus
Summary: Arthur Morgan was just a character in a video game--until one day he isn't. What happens when Lily Edwards-- a young doctor from 2018--mysteriously get transported back to 1899 and is forced to live with the Van Der Linde gang? Will Arthur be everything she thought he was, or will she learn the truth? And why does he seem so invested in her?





	1. What the...?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So I just bought Red Dead Redemption 2 and I am obsessed with this game. What is up with making video game characters attractive? Anywho, this is an idea I've had floating around in my head since I saw the face of this beautiful character. Let me know what you think!

I had only been taking a break.

Well, I was technically off-duty for the next 9 hours. I just finished the third shift at the hospital, so I got to sleep for a little bit before I go to work again at 11.  One of my colleagues, Cameron, had been going on about the new game that was just released. Red Dead Redemption 2. Realistic style games always interested me--throw in some good looking cowboys and I was hooked. Most people might question as to how a doctor would even have time to play video games, but my answer to that is simple--Fuck off. I need some way to keep me sane between working in the ER, living on my own in the middle of Pennsylvania, and also trying to start my own successful career. 

I started working at Bishop Hospital almost two years ago. I was a fresh graduate from medical school, excited and ready to get in there and save lives. The only thing I wasn't very fond of was getting used to working at odd hours of the night. Sometimes I would get called in when I'd be in the middle of plans and would have to get there as fast as possible. But my team of nurses was good, and I made many friends. 

So after treating victims of a car crash for five hours straight, I decided to treat myself and see if there were any stagecoaches or trains I could rob. There was a new horse I was looking to buy and I needed just a little bit more money before I could make the purchase. I should honestly just go straight to bed, but the story in this game was  _so good_ that I had to play it any chance I got. Even if that meant I had to drink a cup of coffee every hour tomorrow to stay awake. 

But when I turned on my TV, something weird happened. Like,  _really weird_. 

The logo popped up, the main menu loaded, but when I pressed the story button nothing happened at first. Confused, I pressed it again but still nothing happened. And then my TV started making a weird humming noise, while the screen turned all white. 

"What the hell?" I whispered to myself, leaning closer to see what was going on. It was when the power went out in my apartment that I began to get a little freaked out. Was there a storm outside? Was I missing something? It's November in Pennsylvania--sometimes the roads get bad and people drive into telephone poles, but why would my apartment get affected by that? 

I stood up, pulling out my cell phone and turning the flashlight on. I made my way over to my door and opened it, stepping into the hallway. I debated on knocking on the door of one of my neighbors, but decided against it at the last second. It was 2 o'clock in the morning. I didn't want to wake my neighbors who were more than likely asleep at this hour.

I turn and walk back to my apartment, still using the flashlight on my phone to see where I'm going. 

_Well this is great_ , I think to myself as I make my way to my bedroom, _guess I'll just have to be smart and go to bed instead._ I sigh and stumble into my bedroom, fumbling around and trying not to stub my toe on anything in the process. I change into my pajamas for the winter, a pair of grey sweats and a white long-sleeved t-shirt. 

I decided I would call in the morning if the power wasn't back on by then, so I went to sleep blissfully unaware of what was going to happen to me when I woke up next. 

* * *

 

It was cold. That was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was that I couldn't move--but I was  _moving_. 

In some groggy state of my mind I realized that I also couldn't speak. The panic started to set in as this new information was brought to my attention, and I began to fully wake up. I opened my eyes, looking around wildly. Three things immediately stood out to me. 

I was on a horse. 

I was tied up on the back of the horse, secured to the back of a saddle. I was on my stomach over the rump of the animal, with my arms and ankles tied behind me.

I was in the middle of fucking  _no where_. 

As the horse I was on bounced quickly down the dirt path, each jostle stealing the breath from my lungs and hurting my ribs, I saw that we were surrounded by trees. We were going up and down dust-ridden hills, no other signs of life in sight. 

"Aw, she's awake! I was startin' to wonder if she was jus' dead."

The male voice cuts through the pounding of the horses' hooves beneath me, and I look up at the rider of the horse. I had completely forgotten that there was someone sitting in the saddle. A large man is sitting very relaxed in the saddle, looking down at me over his shoulder. He sneers, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. There's a giant scar that stretches from his left brow to his chin. My blood runs cold. 

I struggle to move, to try to free myself from whatever situation I found myself in, all to no avail. The ropes are tight, cutting into my skin and stopping me from possibly escaping. Had it not been for the subtle pain I'm currently feeling I would almost believe that all of this was just a very bad dream. 

"If she starts fussin' just shut her up again." Another voice adds. I look behind the horse I'm on to see two more men following us, both on what I'm assuming is their own respective horses. The man who just spoke dips his cowboy hat at me in mock politeness. 

Cowboy hats. All three of these men are decked out in full costume. Where the hell am I? What's going on?

"There's two men up ahead." Scar face says quickly to the men behind us. I look to the front to see two silhouettes of people on horses riding towards us. 

"Ignore them. If they try anythin' then shoot them."

We ride in silence for a few more seconds and I start to struggle again. I kick my legs that are tied together and must move the saddle somehow, because Scar face looks back and down at me angrily. 

"I'm not afraid to hit a lady."

My eyes widen as I look up at him. We start to slow down as we near the two other people on horses. I try to look around the form of the man in front of me but can't seem to move far enough to get a good look. I slump down on the horse, out of breath and trying to ease the throbbing in my ribs. 

"Move out of the way and there won't be no trouble." Scar face says, and I watch as he rests one hand on the gun on his hip. 

"Whatcha got there?" 

Why does that voice sound vaguely familiar?

"Nothin' that concerns you. Now get goin'. 

The horse steps to the side slightly, giving me a better look at the other two people. Once my eyes focus on them and block out the light that's shining behind them, I nearly choke on the cloth in my mouth. 

This has to be a dream. There is no way, no possible  _way_ that I am seeing Arthur Morgan and Charles Smith in front of me.

I start mumbling things, talking more to myself than to anyone else. And that's mainly because I can't believe that I'm seeing two video game characters  _in the flesh_. 

"Shut it back there." Scar face growls at me, turning in the saddle quickly to hit me on the side of the face. Not hard enough to knock me out, but enough to let me know that he's more than willing to hurt me. I fall flat on the horse, my head resting on the powerful muscles of the beast beneath me.

"Hittin' ladies now? You just reached an all time low, O'Driscoll." Arthur drawls quietly, his voice low and slightly raspy. 

_"You,"_ Scar face starts, reaching quickly for his gun. Before he can pull it out of the holster Charles has fired his gun, hitting the man in the head and spooking the horse. The dead body slides off the saddle as the horse I'm on rears slightly, before taking off. I hear more gun shots go off, but they get quieter the farther the horse runs. 

I am  _terrified_. I'm on the back of a horse, bound and unable to do anything as I am at the complete mercy of this animal. It slows down eventually, breathing roughly through its' nostrils and stomps its' hooves. 

"Woah!" I hear a voice call behind me, and with some relief I see that it's Arthur. Or someone who looks a lot like Arthur. That would make more sense. He stops his own horse, sliding off effortlessly before calmly approaching the horse I'm on. He walks forward slowly, taking his time to calm the horse before grabbing the reigns and petting the horse. Once I'm sure the animal isn't going to be running off again with me on it anytime soon he walks back towards me. On the horse I only reach to about his shoulders, so I have to lift my head at a painful angle to look the man in the eye. 

And damn, if he isn't attractive. 

He's tall, broad, and looks very strong. That's what I gather from him wearing what I'm guessing is two layers of clothing. He has his signature hat on, a slight stubble growing on his face, and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. 

And he's currently looking at me like I'm some sort of alien. 

"Let's get you down from there, shall we?" He says quietly, pulling a knife out of his belt. I can't help but stiffen at the sight of the deadly weapon, inhaling sharply. Arthur stops moving, the knife raised halfway to the rope that's keeping me secured to the saddle. He frowns for a moment before continuing to reach up, grabbing a hold of the offending thing and starting to saw at it. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." The words are surprisingly soft and reassuring. Something that I wasn't exactly expecting. 

He cuts the rope, putting the knife away before placing his hands on my sides and lifting me off the horse. My diaphragm nearly weeps with joy as the pressure on it is stopped. I take in a deep breath, letting Arthur place me down on the ground. I bend my knees up and bring them to my chest, looking up at Arthur as he stares down at me. 

"You're not gonna cause any trouble, are ya? I just wanna talk."

I nod frantically, desperately wanting to be untied and get this stupid gag off. Arthur once more pulls his knife out sighs before bending down on one knee and cutting the ropes on my ankles. Once they're freed I can't help but groan as I stretch my legs out. Arthur gives me a weird look out of the corner of his eye but continues moving around me to cut my hands free. Once that's done I don't hesitate in reaching up and yanking the white cloth out of my mouth, letting the thing just hang around my neck. I close my eyes, balling in on myself for a second and breathing deeply, closing my eyes and trying to get my bearings. 

Maybe when I open my eyes none of this will still be here? It's very possibly that I'm just having a really lucid dream. That I'm controlling what I want to see, and since I couldn't play Red Dead then this is my brain's way of making up for it?

"What's your name?" 

So I'm still here. I look up out of my arms at Arthur. Or who I'm guessing is supposed to be Arthur. I'm so confused. 

"My name is Lily. Lily Edwards."

Charles chooses that moment to join us, riding up on his horse and getting close before stopping to get off. He walks over to stand beside Arthur, looking down at me. Holy shit. I know I'm on the ground and all, but I feel absolutely  _tiny_ compared to those two right now. 

"This here is Lily Edwards." Arthur introduces me to Charles, sweeping a hand in my direction. "My name is Arthur Callahan, and this here is my friend James Monroe."

I feel the air leave my lungs.  _"Fuck."_

Arthur raises an eyebrow at me. "There a problem?"

I scramble to my feet, feeling my head swim for a moment. I stumble only slightly but keep my footing. Arthur and Charles share a look between one another. 

"Wh-where am I?" I ask, turning away from them and taking in my surroundings. There are trees everywhere, along with mountains and nothing but dirt paths. There's no sign of civilization anywhere. No power lines, no roads,  _nothing_. 

"You're about fifteen miles outside of Rhodes, ma'am." Charles answers, and I turn back to him incredulously. 

"Rhodes?" I say to myself. Rhodes was the main location in chapter 3. I'm somewhere in the middle of chapter 4 in the game. Is the gang still stationed outside Rhodes? "What year is it?"

"It's 1899." Arthur says with a frown. "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor or somethin'?"

I feel frustrated. What the  _hell_ is happening to me? "I  _am_ a doctor, dammit!" 

I look down at myself and see that I'm still in the clothes that I went to bed in. My bed. From 2018. Not 1899. 

"Do you have any family around here?" Charles steps forward. 

"None that are alive." I say, looking down at the ground as my brain moves at a million miles a minute. 

"Say, what did them O'Driscolls want with you?" Arthur asks, crossing his massive arms over his chest. 

I look up at him, and for some reason I want to cry. I'm scared. I'm angry. I'm  _confused_. 

I shrug, laughing quietly as tears start to build in my eyes. "I have no fucking clue. I don't know how I got here. I don't know why I'm here with Arthur Morgan and Charles Smith right now in fucking Rhodes, in fucking  _1899_ when I should be in bed!" I let my face fall in my hands as I cry, gentle sobs shaking my shoulders. 

I don't realize my mistake until I stop crying and look up at the two men. They gave me fake names and I just said their real ones. 

Arthur is staring at me intensely, bordering on a glare, while Charles is holding a pistol in his hand. The two of them combined giving me that look makes me stumble backwards in fear, and I trip over my bare feet and fall to the hard ground. The two of them watch me carefully, probably looking for a sign that I'm actually here to kill them or something. 

"How do you know who we are?" Charles questions. His voice is hard as he stares down at me beneath his furrowed brow. 

"Y-you wouldn't believe me if I told you. I'm not from here. I don't want any trouble, please. I just want to go home."

Arthur and Charles look at each other, an unspoken conversation shared between the two of them before Arthur nods. Charles puts his gun away as Arthur steps forward and offers his hand out to me. 

"I'm afraid that's not possible for you at the moment. You're gonna need to come with  _Charles_ and I." 

I stare at Arthur for a few seconds, seeing that there's no way this isn't going to end anytime soon. I place my much smaller hand in his, feeling the callouses there as he grips me tightly and pulls me to my feet. He releases me once I'm standing and walks to his horse. He slaps the horse of the O'Driscoll on the rear, causing it to take off somewhere before climbing into the saddle of his dark brown thoroughbred. He situates himself before turning and looking down at me, still standing there pathetically on the ground. 

"You ever ride a horse?"

I swallow. "Sure."

He reaches a hand out to me. "You're riding with me. Charles, ride on ahead and explain the situation to the others." Charles nods before taking off on his own horse, disappearing over the bend of the trail. 

I cautiously step forward and take Arthur's hand in my own, letting him pull me up until I'm position behind him on the horse, only this time I'm sitting up and there's no rope on me. I place my legs on either side of his, choosing to not ride side-saddle. I know if I did that then I would most likely fall off. 

"It's a bit of a ride and the terrain ain't fun, so you may want to hang on." Arthur takes the reins of the horse in his hands. "And don't try nothin' funny. We ain't no O'Driscolls, but we also ain't stupid." And with a flick of his wrist his horse takes off. 

I lurch, and in a fit of panic I reach forward and wrap my arms around his midsection, pressing myself tightly against his back. He grunts softly at the sudden assault but otherwise says nothing. Even though I want to take this time to appreciate that I'm riding a horse with Arthur Morgan, my chest pressed nice and tight to his muscled back and my hands against his strong abdomen, I can't focus on anything but the flurry of thoughts running through my mind--mainly the biggest one that keeps repeating. 

Am I ever going to get home?


	2. Welcoming Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! This is surprisingly getting more attention faster than I was expecting, so that's good! Let me know what you're thinking and thank you again for all the kudos and comments!

We ride for a good twenty minutes, slowing down only a few times for the horse to catch its breath before picking up speed once again. I don't loosen my hold the entire time, afraid that if I do then I'll fall off or be kicked off. I get the feeling that Arthur doesn't exactly appreciate my hold on him but he's trying not to upset me more after what just happened. 

We turn off the main path, riding down between some trees that look like they're trying to touch the sky. The large amount of growth brings a nice smell with it, clearing my senses and making all of this slightly more bearable. Arthur sits up slightly in the saddle, slowing the horse with a tug of the reigns and gentle shushing. As we come to a walk I let go of him, unwinding my arms and sitting up straight behind him. I rest my hands on the back of the saddle just in case, though. 

"Thought you said you rode a horse before." Arthur says, briefly looking to the side to indicate he was talking to me. This is the first he's said anything since I've gotten on the animal.

I clear my throat, looking down at the ground that passes beneath us to try to hide my embarrassment. "I have. But it's been a while and we never really... well, let's just say I was in a beginner class."

"Class?" He doesn't hide the surprise in his voice. "You took a class to learn how to ride? What are you, some rich lady who ran away from mommy and daddy to prove yourself or somethin'?"

I look up, frowning at his back. I don't particularly like the tone he's giving me, or the fact that he's basically calling me  _spoiled_. "I can assure you,  _Mr. Morgan_ , that whatever idea of me you currently have hidden away under that hat of yours is most certainly wrong." I don't hide the anger from my voice. I frown deeper when the only reaction I get from him is a small chuckle, so quiet that I barely hear it. 

"Who's there?" A raspy voice calls, and I look down the path a little to the right to see  _John Marston_ standing in the shadows of the trees, holding a rifle in his hands. Disbelief once more washes over me as another character from the game appears. 

"It's me, ya dumb-ass." Arthur mutters the last part to himself under his breath. John nods and lowers the gun, but stares at me as we ride past him. He's got shoulder length hair, a light black color. There's some stubble growing on his face that doesn't cover the scars on his cheek. I keep eye contact only for a few seconds before looking down at my hands. If John is here, then that must be the  _whole_ gang is here too. 

I feel my heart beat a little faster. I'm both terrified and excited. Terrified because I'm meeting these characters in real life, and that shouldn't even be possible. I'm also excited though because I  _love_ some of these characters. I can only hope that they don't think I'm here to kill them or who knows what. 

Oh, Jesus. What if they think I'm here to do something like that? I'm a random woman who was found with the O'Driscolls, a well-known enemy of this group of misfits, and I have absolutely no explanation as to why they had me or how I got here. The little excitement I was feeling dies down and now I'm mainly just terrified. 

The path clears and Arthur brings us over to a small hitching post. There are other horses grazing around, about ten or twelve of them. I see some tents set up with a few people milling about. There are carriages off to the side, holding the supplies I'm guessing. I look to the side where there's a table and see two young girls talking to one another while looking over at us. Looking closer I see that it's Tilly and Mary-Beth. They look even prettier in person. 

Arthur slides off the horse first, lifting his leg from the stirrup and jumping down to the ground. He steps back and nods to me, silently telling me to get down. I swallow, nodding as I also swing my leg over and slide down. I stumble slightly, heat flooding my cheeks. He stands there, watching me under the brim of his hat with his hands planted on his hips. I see him shake his head softly as he lets out a sigh before turning and walking into camp. I follow after him, crossing my arms over my chest and being careful where I step. I don't have any shoes or socks on right now, and who knows what diseases I would pick up if I got something stuck in my foot. 

"Dutch!" Arthur calls, walking past Mary-Beth and Tilly, merely nodding his head in greeting as we walk past. I give them a strained smile, knowing it must come out as more of a grimace. They stare at me, lifting their hands in greeting as I turn my back to them. 

He leads me around a tent, and we walk over to what appears to be a lake. There are five men standing along the shore, and I can easily pick out who's who. I saw Charles before, and he stands to the side as what appears to be Micah and Hosea arguing. Bill stands behind Micah, frowning and looking like he would rather be anywhere but here. Dutch stands by Charles, arms crossed as he patiently waits for Hosea and Micah to finish saying whatever it is they're talking about. 

"Over here, Arthur." Dutch calls, turning his head away from the bickering to look at the two of us walking over. Dutch unfolds his arms and walks forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks me up and down. Standing there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, white shirt and nothing on my feet I feel very  _exposed_. 

"This must be Miss Lily Edwards. Pleasure to meet you, my name is Dutch Van Der Linde." He pauses, tilting his chin up slightly. "You already know that though, don't you?"

I feel my mouth go dry. I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. 

"Is this her?" Micah's voice enters the conversation, immediately grating my nerves. I haven't liked him since the very beginning. "What the hell are you doin', Dutch? She could be an O'Driscoll in disguise!" 

I find my voice come back to me. I refuse to be insulted by some inbred hillbilly like him. "I'm no O'Driscoll, you reprobate. Why the hell would they kidnap me if I was?"

"One of the men who was traveling with her told me they were bringing her to Colm, Dutch." Charles adds quietly from the side. He stands strong and silent, effectively ignoring whatever bullshit Micah must have been spewing before I got here. 

I nervously hide my hands in the ends of my sleeves, a bad habit I picked up when I was younger. It may comfort me, but it stretches the cloth. "Did they say why?" I ask him quietly. Charles briefly looks over at me and shakes his head. 

"I don't like it, Dutch. It don't feel right." Bill adds his two cents, nodding in agreement with Micah. 

"Now, I don't know all the facts here," Arthur butts in, holding a hand out to stop Bill from saying anything else, "but I saw the way they treated her." He briefly looks at me, or more specifically, where Scar face slapped me. "Even if she was a faker, they wouldn't have done that to her."

I can't help but feel surprised that Arthur is defending me. I knew he was a good man--that much was evident from the interactions he had with people when I played the game--but to be on the receiving end of it was something else entirely. 

"Little lady," Dutch steps forward, towering over me. I'm not short by any means, but these men make me feel like I'm two feet tall when I stand around them. "Where are you from?"

I clear my throat, looking at all of them. Micah and Bill are the only ones giving me dirty looks. The others are patiently waiting for my answer, and that reassures me a little bit. But do I tell them the truth? Do I tell them that I'm from a place where they're nothing more than video game characters? No. That would surely get me shot. 

"I'm from Pennsylvania."

"Pennsylvania?" Dutch raises a brow. "What made you want to come all the way down here?"

I wasn't even sure where  _here_ was. I think it's set somewhere around Kentucky but I'm not sure. 

"I don't know how I got here." I say slowly, looking him in the eye to let him know I'm telling the truth. "I was in my bed, going to sleep, and then I woke up on the back of that man's horse." There. That wasn't a lie--just not the whole truth.

"That's an awful long time to be asleep for." Bill mutters. 

"Were you drugged? Do you need to see a doctor or something?" Hosea steps forward, his concern washing over me. I can see why Arthur thinks of him as his father-figure. 

"Oh, no," Arthur chuckles dryly to himself, "she'll be more than happy to tell you that she's a doctor and don't need no damn help." 

"You're a doctor?" Dutch asks, and with a sigh to myself I realize why they seem surprised with this information. 

It's 1899. Women aren't expected to do much at this time except for stay home, keep the house clean and watch the kids. They must think that I'm lying about being a doctor or something, as women were also discouraged from going to school. They weren't supposed to be independent, they were supposed to have men to tell them when to breathe and eat. It disgusts me. 

"Yes, I am." 

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard." Micah sneers, spitting out some tobacco to the side. 

"And  _that_ _'s_ the stupidest thing I've ever seen." I bite back. "Have fun with mouth cancer."

Micah frowns deeply, his lip curling to reveal teeth destroyed by years of nothing but alcohol and tobacco. "You're nothin' but a little bitch."

"Okay," Dutch steps between the two of us, holding his hands up. I say nothing, biting my tongue in anger. I'm not one to back down from a fight, but I don't think threatening to kill Micah would help my case right now. "Let's take a deep breath. Why don't you come walk with me?" Dutch asks, offering out his arm for me to take like a gentleman would do. 

I look down at it before looking back up. He's watching me carefully, and I can see that even though he's being nice to me he's also very skeptical of everything that's going on. I don't really blame him, so with only slight hesitation I loop my arm through his and let him lead me away from the others. I look briefly over my shoulder to see Charles and Hosea talking to one another while Micah and Bill stomp back to camp. Arthur stands by himself, hands gripping his belt and hip cocked as he watches us walk away. He's wearing a neutral expression, so it's difficult for me to get a read on what he's thinking right now. 

"Do you have any family, Miss Edwards?"

Dutch's voice makes me turn around again, seeing that he's leading us down to the dock. I give him the same answer I gave Arthur and Charles. "None that are alive, sir."

"Please, call me Dutch." 

"Only if you stop calling me Miss Edwards."

Dutch laughs softly. "Okay. It's a deal." We walk to the end of the dock and he releases my arm, slowly lowering himself until he's sitting down on the planks of wood. I follow his lead, letting my bare feet rest in the chilly water of the lake. 

"Now," Dutch starts, looking out over the lake to the sun that's beginning to set. It's actually quite pretty. "We have a small problem here, Lily." Dutch reaches up and takes his hat off, letting it rest on his lap. 

"That's an understatement." I say quietly. 

"You know who we are. Charles tells me he and Arthur gave you fake names, but somehow you knew their real ones. Can you tell me how you know their real ones?"

I was dreading this question, mainly because I don't know how to answer it. But I knew someone was going to ask it eventually. 

"I... Well," I begin, trying to come up with something as fast as possible so it doesn't seem suspicious, but I can feel Dutch looking at me out of the corner of my eye. He's watching to see my reactions, see if I'm being truthful in my answer. And damn, I had better be a good actress. 

"Back in my hometown, you guys are quite...popular." There, that's not a lie. The Van Der Linde gang are popular, but because they're a  _game_. "And I've seen posters of you people around my town. It has your picture and your names on them. I guess as soon as I saw them I knew who they were, even though I wasn't really thinking about it." Hopefully that was a good enough answer for him. 

Dutch hums, once more looking forward. I look at the rings on his hands that sit on top of his hat, wondering if he stole them, bought them, or won them somehow. They look very expensive, which is odd considering Dutch is always complaining about needing more money. 

"So then I suppose you know who we are, and what we've done." He says this in a no-nonsense tone. 

"Well, yes and no." He looks at me after this answer. "I know you're wanted people, but I don't know what you've done." Also true. The reason they were wanted in Blackwater was never really told. Just that they were on the run from the law. 

"I suppose that helps your case some, then." Dutch reaches into his pocket and pulls out a watch, looking at it briefly before putting it away. "Do you know what philosophy is, Lily?"

I have to hold in a snort. I took philosophy courses in college, but I can't tell him that. "Yeah, I know some of it."

Dutch smiles slightly. "Ever heard of utilitarianism?"

Again, I have to stop myself from blurting things out that I shouldn't. I wrote a paper on Jeremy Bentham's concept of utilitarianism. He died in the 1830's, so the idea would still be fairly new at this time. "I have."

"Smart girl," Dutch praises, nodding his head at me. "Then you know that utilitarianism is just about people who sometimes do bad things in order to achieve great things?"

That's not exactly what utilitarianism is, but he's also not wrong. Utilitarianism is more about making the harder choices so that the amount of good gained from the consequences outweighs the bad. But, again, Dutch isn't exactly wrong. 

"Sure."

Dutch spreads his hands out, gesturing all around us. "That's what we are, Lily. We're utilitarians. We sometimes do bad things, but that's only because we want to make things better. And sometimes, people don't really know how to accept that. But you," Dutch looks pointedly at me, the smile gone from his face, "you seem to understand it. You're an educated woman, and I'm going to go ahead and guess that even if you aren't actually a doctor, you at least have  _some_ medical expertise." 

I chew on the inside of my cheek to stop from getting snarky. I am a doctor, but if he will at least accept that I know some things, then I'll take it. "You're not wrong."

"The smarter a person is, the easier it is for them to adapt to changes." Dutch stands, brushing off any imaginary dirt from his pants and vest before looking down at me. "It may take a while, but I think that eventually you'll gain our trust, and you'll fit in here fine. So tell me, Lily Edwards." Dutch offers me a hand, staring at me. "Would you like to take your chances out there alone and go home, or would you like to stay? It won't be easy, and you'll be expected to carry your weight around here. Having a doctor here though? That would be a nice addition."

I feel my breath catch in my throat. I sure as hell was  _not_ expecting that. Maybe for them to offer to help me to a train station or something to send me off to imaginary Pennsylvania, but sure as hell not  _join_ them. I don't have anywhere else to go, so as soon as Dutch asked I knew what my answer was going to be. But I can't help but still be afraid. This isn't a game anymore, this is serious business. I'm going to be expected to shoot a gun, ride a horse, maybe even  _kill_ people. That's what I don't want to do. I'm a doctor, I save lives--not take them. But what else am I supposed to do?

I put my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet before shaking his hand and staring right back at him. "You have a deal, Dutch Van Der Linde."

Dutch smiles at me, letting out a laugh as he holds my hand tightly in his own. He claps me on the back and brings me close to his side, turning to face the camp again. Charles and Hosea are gone, but Arthur sits behind his tent, smoking a cigarette and watching us. 

"Miss Grimshaw! Fetch some clothes for this young lady, would you? She's going to be with us for a while." Dutch steers me forward with the hand on my back. "Let me introduce you to our family."


	3. Even the Smallest Ones Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can honestly say this is the most dedicated to a story I've written in a long time. Usually it takes me days or weeks to get chapters out, but since my fall semester at college just ended I have a whole month where I can do nothing but write! Lucky for you guys lmao. Keep letting me know what you think! Someone suggested an Arthur x Reader story, so if you have any requests for a one-shot send them to me and I'll try to write them along with writing this story. Thank you so much!

Miss Grimshaw was exactly as I expected her to be. An older woman, around the age of 50, who ran a tight ship in the camp even given the circumstances they were living with. She wore a tight dress that showed off her assets, her hair tight and neatly pulled back on top of her head. Though she had a few wrinkles on her face, she looked very good. She took one look at me in my pajama's and merely shook her head, grasping my hand and leading me to her tent. 

"Where on Earth did you find those things?" She asked, tutting to herself. 

I looked down, noticing how dirty my feet and clothes were from all the events of today. "It's the fashion where I come from."

She purses her lips, looking me up and down. "Doesn't look like much of anything to me." She walks over to a trunk that rests at the foot of her cot, opening it and rustling around. "I have a few dresses here, but you can pick which is your favorite."

Oh no. I don't wear dresses back home, so there's now way that I'm wearing one  _now_ , in a time where the word technology doesn't even exist. I clear my throat, causing her to stop and look up at me. 

"I, uh, I don't suppose you have any pants I could wear?"

She stands up straight, frowning at me. "Pants? Are you one of  _those_?"

Now I'm confused. "One of  _what_?"

"Those new-age women. All about short hair and wearing men's clothing."

She doesn't exactly say this in an offensive tone, but she also doesn't seem too happy with it. "I mean, yes. I don't have short hair but I do like wearing pants. It's why I have them on now."

Miss Grimshaw hums to herself, looking at something behind me. "Well, I suppose you'll want to talk to Mrs. Adler then. She's at the tent by that group of trees over there." She points behind me and I follow it to see none other than Sadie Adler polishing a gun on her bed. "Don't be frightened--she's all bark. Well, and a little bite. Okay, a lot of bite, but you don't need to worry about that." Miss Grimshaw walks away, but pauses and looks at me over her shoulder. "Unless you give us a reason to worry about you." And then she's heading over towards Pearson. 

I take a deep breath, beginning to feel the cold of the Earth creep up on me. There are still a few people milling about around camp, some of them not paying me any mind while the others sit together and whisper quietly. I'm almost positive they're talking about me, but I can't exactly blame them. I'm a new person, who barely has any information to offer on why she knows so much about this group of people. 

I walk over to Sadie, stopping just outside the tent. She pauses in her cleaning, looking up at me carefully. She puts the gun on the table beside her bed, throwing the rag to the side before standing up. She places her hands on her hips, staring at me. She wears black pants with an ammo belt, her yellow shirt buttoned almost all the way to the top. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail under her hat. There's a look of determination on her face, showing all the strength that she's gained most likely since she first joined the gang. 

"You must be that new lady who's joinin' us." That's probably the best greeting I'm going to get from her right now. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, merely staring at me. I know she's studying me, trying to figure out if I'm friend or foe. 

"I'm Lily Edwards." I introduce myself, holding my hand out for her to shake. She doesn't move, just looks down at my hand before I awkwardly drop it back down to my side. 

"Sadie Adler." She nods her head at me. "Why are you here?"

"Miss Grimshaw said that you might have some pants--"

"No," she interrupts, taking a step closer to me, "why are you  _here_?" 

I swallow down the lump in my throat, trying to hide my fear. Sadie was beginning to become my favorite character in the game when I left off. She was strong and independent, not interested in any of the men in the game after the death of her husband. She just wants to make things right again. I can't blame her for that. 

"I wish I knew." I respond quietly. I sigh, rubbing a hand over my forehead. "I'm sorry if I've bothered you. I just thought I could borrow some clothes from you. I don't like dresses."

Sadie tilts her chin up. "Well, I might have something here. I don't care for dresses that much myself." She stares at me for another second before going to her clothing and rummaging around for a few seconds. "You look like you're my size so these should fit." She stands up and tosses the clothes at me, barely giving me a chance to prepare myself to catch them. I fumble around for a second, almost dropping the shirt before I've got a good grasp on them. 

"Thank you. I, uh, I'll pay you back."

"Sure." She says, and then goes back to her things. Not knowing what to do, I turn around and walk away.

I need to find somewhere to change, so I look around. It looks like everyone has their own personal tent here, not an extra one that I can just borrow for a few seconds. I look around to try to find Miss Grimshaw again, but she's not at her tent or Pearson's anymore so I'm not sure what to do. I feel like I'm at a party where I know no one and everyone else does. I'm an outsider. I'm going to be excluded, and the earlier I learn to accept that the better. 

"Miss? Do you need some help?"

I turn my head to see Mary-Beth standing there, wringing her hands together in front of her nervously. She looks concerned, watching me. 

"I, well, yes. Please. I don't have anywhere to change or clean up."

Mary-Beth nods and steps forward, holding out a hand for me to take. I switch my bundle of clothing over to one arm and take her hand, allowing her to gently pull me towards where Tilly is standing at a tent. They both gently usher me inside and shut the flaps, giving us some privacy. 

"Do you want some help? We have a wash pail here for you to use." Tilly asks, drawing my attention to the silver pail sitting on the ground that has a cloth resting along the rim. "My name is Tilly, and this here is Mary-Beth."

"I can do your hair for you if you'd like!" Mary-Beth adds. She takes my hand in hers again, her and Tilly both giving me sympathetic looks. "We heard what happened to you, and we're very sorry."

"I've had my fair share of trouble," Tilly adds, nodding with Mary-Beth, "it's no fun. If you need anything, we're here to help you."

I feel a heat start to build up behind my eyes. I keep it down though, simply smiling at them to show my gratitude. "Thank you, really. I can't tell you how much that means to me." I put the clothes on one of the beds and rub my arm. "I'll wash up and dress myself, but I would love it if you did my hair, Mary-Beth." That gets me a smile from the woman. 

"We'll leave you to it, then." They both leave the tent, once more securing it behind them. I sigh, sliding out of my only possessions I have left from my time before cleaning myself of the dirt I'd gathered as best as I can and putting the pants and shirt on that Sadie gave me. 

The pants are similar to hers, high-waisted and black. The shirt is a maroon button up, not exactly rough but also not the softest fabric I've ever felt. I leave the top three buttons undone, and fasten the buttons at the wrist. Thankfully I still have my undergarments from my time. There's no way I'm wearing a corset. Those are one of the worst things you could possibly have for your diaphragm. 

Once I'm done I fold my clothes and hold them in my arms. I peek out the tent to see Mary-Beth and Tilly talking and giggling with one another. They stop when they see me and Mary-Beth smiles before walking over. She steps inside the tent and goes over to what must be her bed, pulling out a box underneath and finding a hair brush. She gestures for me to sit on the edge of the bed, and so I do. When she stands behind me and starts brushing it, I can't think of how  _young_ this makes me feel. Like I'm some middle school girl at a sleepover instead of a 28-year old woman stuck in another time period. 

Oh dear lord. 

Mary-Beth spends about twenty minutes on my hair, more than I usually spend getting ready in the morning altogether. When she's done she stands, putting her things away and pulling out a mirror. 

"Take a look," she sounds a little excited. 

I'm... surprised to say the least. She did what looks like a simple braid, but with a little extra thrown in. My hair wasn't the longest, only reaching to my shoulder blades, but the braid looks nice and clean. It's naturally blonde and wavy, so I'm impressed that she was able to tame all of it in such a short time. 

"Don't you look pretty." Tilly comments, leaning against the side of the tent. 

"We'll have to take you into town tomorrow so that we can get you some proper things, but this will have to do for now."

"I really do appreciate everything you've done for me." I tell them sincerely. "I don't know how I could repay you."

Mary-Beth and Tilly simply wave me off. "It's the least we could do. We need more women around here. And besides, you're in good graces with us if you ain't afraid to stand up to Micah."

The girls both laugh at the scowl that crosses my face at the mention of his name. I haven't liked Micah since he was introduced. If I had the option, I would've made him hang in Strawberry instead of saving him. 

I end up talking to the two of them for quite some time. They're both wonderful girls in horrible situations. It makes me wish that they were focused on more during the game because they have incredible stories to tell themselves. Of course they ask me what my story is, but I don't really have any answers I can give them. I skirt around the truth, just giving them basic facts from my life. Where I was raised, how I lived on a farm during my childhood, how I went to medical school to become a doctor. They were very impressed by that fact. Just being reminded once more of how little power women have in this time period angers me. I won't put up with men thinking they're better than me. I've worked damn hard to be where I am in my life today, and nobody is going to make me feel any less than what I ought to. 

They take me to speak to Miss Grimshaw again when it gets darker outside. Miss Grimshaw gets me a bedroll for me to sleep on, since they weren't prepared for anyone else to join them that's the best they have. She tells me I can sleep with her for now, just until I get a tent of my own. I thank her, and lie down on the hard dirt. The bedroll helps a little bit, but ground is still ground. I never was the best at camping back home. I always preferred RV's over tents. 

Guess that's going to bite me in the ass now. 

* * *

 

Miss Grimshaw wakes me up bright and early the next morning. It doesn't bother me that much when she tells me it's only half past six, because I'm used to being up at odd hours to go to the hospital. She leads me to the lake where I get a pail of water to wash up with. I grimace when I realize I really  _don't_ have anything. Basic things, like a toothbrush. I take the water back to camp and boil it, trying to make it as clean as possible before cleaning myself with it. 

While I'm washing my face in my hands I feel a pair of eyes watching me. Wiping my eyes, I look to the side and see a little boy hiding behind a tree, watching me carefully. It's Jack, Abigail and John's little boy. If I remember correctly, he's only about six years old. 

"Hello," I call out to him, smiling gently, "my name is Lily." 

He stares at me, his tiny hand holding the bark. "Like the flower?"

I nod encouragingly. "Like the flower. In fact, Lily's are my  _favorite_ flower. Do you have a favorite?"

He steps out from behind the tree now, a little less shy now. "I like the purple ones. They're soft."

"Purple ones, huh? I bet they're beautiful." 

Jack nods excitedly, walking up to me now. "They are. And I know a great place where they grow! I try to pick them for Mamma but Uncle Arthur says I should let them grow some more before I do that." I feel my eyebrows raise at that piece of information. "My name is Jack. Do you want to see them?"

He seems to happy for me to say no, so I simply nod and watch him take my hand in his smaller one before quickly leading me away from the main part of the camp. We walk past where the horses are clustered towards the path that Arthur and I rode in on. We walk through some brush, my bare feet breaking twigs beneath me. I ignore the pain, not wanting to hurt the little boy's feelings. That's one thing that I need to get when we go to town. Some  _shoes_. 

"Here!" He points to a cluster of petunias that are growing out of the ground. They are beautiful. 

"Your Uncle Arthur was right to tell you to wait," I tell Jack, bending down and lightly touching the flower petals, "these need to get a little stronger before they can be given to your Mamma. I'm sure she'll be very happy to get them, no matter when it is you give them to her."

Jack looks up at me, all smiles. It makes my heart melt a little bit, and I feel better knowing that I can bring such joy to a little boy with a few simple words. 

He stands up, waving his hand at someone behind me. I look over my shoulder to see none other than the man himself trotting in on his horse. He slows down as he passes Jack and I, coming to a full stop and looking down at us. He pats his horse on the neck, nodding at the two of us. 

"Hey there, Jack. Whatcha doin'?"

"Showin' Miss Lily the flowers. I didn't pick 'em though, just like you told me."

Arthur chuckles lowly, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a sexy grin.

_Woah_ _,_ I think to myself,  _you need to stop right here, right now. We're not starting that shit._

Arthur tugs on the reigns, stopping his horse from going anywhere. He slides down, boots landing with a thud on the dirt. He lets the horse go and it walks obediently over to the others, joining them in their grazing. Arthur takes his hat off the top of his head, showing his swept back hair and shaved sides. He brushes the dirt off the top of his hat as he walks over to us. 

"Good morning, Mr. Morgan." I greet, standing up to face him. 

"Arthur is just fine, ma'am."

I make a face. "Ma'am? I don't know how I feel about that."

His eyebrow twitches, the smirk staying on his face. "I don't know how I feel 'bout Mr. Morgan. Guess we're both unhappy."

I smile softly, nodding my head in agreement. "You've got a point there."

"Jack!" The three of us look over to the camp to see Abigail watching the three of us, waving her son over. I haven't been formally introduced to her yet, so I get the feeling that she might be uncomfortable with the idea of me being around her son. Though I'm a little sad about that, I can't say that I blame her. 

"Bye Miss Lily, bye Uncle Arthur!" Jack calls as he runs as fast as his little legs can carry him over to Abigail. She hugs him, laughing softly. The sight tugs at my heart strings a little bit. Abigail is a good mother to Jack. And John? Well, he could certainly step up as a father.

"You look better." Arthur breaks the silence that had settled over the two of us. I walk beside him back to the camp, trying not to wince when I step over rocks. He must notice it anyway with the way he looks down at my feet. "Didn't they give you any shoes?"

"Um, no. They don't really have any in my size." 

Arthur hums to himself, walking forward. I vaguely notice that we've started walking more in the grass than on the dirt path. 

"I hear that I'm to take you and the girls into town?"

I raise a brow at him. "Are you? I wasn't told."

"Mary-Beth and Tilly came up to me last night and asked if I would be so kind as to drive you 'lovely young women' into town for some quick shopping." Arthur smiles to himself. I always thought that he and Mary-Beth would have been cute together. "I couldn't quite say no when they seemed so determined."

"Mary-Beth  _and_ Tilly ganging up on you? You never stood a chance." I get a chuckle out of him at that. 

"I guess not." We stop near the campfire. Pearson has breakfast ready, and I see that the people in the camp are beginning to get bowls of whatever special it is he made this morning. "Miss Lily, I feel I need to be honest with you."

I turn to him, raising an eyebrow. "Okay," I say, deciding not to comment on my name. 

"I feel it's important you know that right now I don't really trust you as far as I can throw you." I look at Arthur in slight shock at this. He doesn't look at me, instead staring at the other people milling about. "But, I also don't think you mean us any harm here." He finally looks down at me, staring me straight in the eye. He really does have beautiful blue eyes. 

_Stop._

"Well," I clear my throat, nodding slowly, "I can't exactly say I blame you. I wouldn't trust me either.  _However_ ," I give him a serious look, "I'll do whatever I can to earn it from you. From all of you. I appreciate all that you guys are doing for me, and I'll find someway to repay you for it." I give him a small smile, nodding at him. "I'll go find the girls and load up the wagon." I turn and walk towards Mary-Beth and Tilly's tent, slowing only when I hear him speak when I'm a few feet away. 

"I look forward to it."

* * *

 

The trip into Saint Denis was actually quite nice. It was a little bit of a trip but not too much. Arthur controlled the horses while Mary-Beth, Tilly, Sadie and I sat in the wagon. Us girls talked the whole time, just about everything and nothing. I was surprised when Sadie expressed interest in coming but I wasn't going to say anything. I wanted to get closer to her--I just feel like she's a good person to have on your side. 

After one comment I made on Pearson's cooking that had everyone laughing, I looked forward and saw that even Arthur was smiling under his hat. I wasn't really sure if he was paying attention to begin with, but knowing that I made him smile made my smile even bigger. Given the circumstances that I've been given, I really haven't been doing... too bad. Most people in the camp are pretty accepting, if not a little cautious. I even properly introduced myself to Abigail before we left. She's a beautiful woman, and also very sweet. Jack has a very good mother. 

As we enter the town all sorts of different smells flood my nose. I had only been smelling grass and horse, but here I smell smoke, rain water, livestock and many other things. It's kind of refreshing to know that there is  _some_ stuff out there besides the Van Der Linde camp. 

Arthur steers us over to the side of a brick building, and I see the word 'TOBACCO' printed alongside it. My nose wrinkles in disgust at the sign. 

"Not a fan of the smokes?" Tilly asks, smiling at the look on my face. 

"If you knew what I know about the stuff that shit does to you, you wouldn't want to be anywhere in a five mile radius." I answer, and Tilly nods. 

"My pa used to smoke. I never did. The men at camp seem to like it, though."

"It's relaxin'." Arthur groans as he stands and climbs off the front seat. He walks around to the back and offers a hand to Tilly and Mary-Beth to help them down. He reaches a hand up to me as well. "It's the only thing besides a good drink that takes the edge off when times get tough."

I sigh, shaking my head but accepting his help. I put my hand in his own, secretly noticing the toughness and strength that he possesses in just his hand alone. I can tell by the callouses there that he's done a lot during his time alive. I hope off the edge of the wagon, landing on my feet and trying not to get something wedged in my foot. 

"Let's go to the general store first," Mary-Beth steps forward, looking worriedly down at my feet, "see if we can find some proper footwear for ya."

It's then that something very important hits me. "Oh god," I say, looking at her with wide eyes, "I have no money. I can't buy anything."

"Here," a low voice answers, and I feel something being pushed into my hand. I look down to see Arthur handing me a wad of cash that he pulled out from his side satchel. "You can pay me back later."

I take it, looking up at him with gratitude. There's at least two hundred dollars there. "Thank you. I promise I'll pay you back, and then some."

He tips his hat and gives me a wink. "I don't doubt it." He starts walking away, the years of riding nothing but horses shown in the way he steps. But with him, it looks good. It's like he's a man who has no care in the world. "Sadie, let's go and look at those new rifles that were comin' in." Sadie follows Arthur and the two of them round the corner and are out of sight. 

"Let's go! I've got some ideas of these shoes that you will absolutely love!" Mary-Beth excitedly takes my arm in her own and with Tilly following behind, the three of us make our way into town. 


	4. Doctor, Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are awesome. Seriously. I have some ideas of where I want this story to go but I'm mainly making it up as I write lmao. Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I live off of you guys' opinions, so keep them coming! Thank you so much!

It didn't take as long as I had been expecting to get everything I needed. We got me some boots first, thank God, and I ignored the odd look the shopkeeper gave me as I slipped them on in front of him. I just wanted something on my feet. They were black, and more of the style of riding boots than what Sadie wore, but they were also more durable than Tilly and Mary-Beth's flat shoes. They looked good, but most importantly, they  _felt_ good. I was happy with them. After that was taken care of, we got some more clothes for me, a hair brush, tooth brush, and many other things that I'll need to take care of myself. I felt bad that I spent nearly every penny that Arthur gave me, but the girls reassured me I'd be fine. Arthur may be a stubborn and quiet man, but he had good intentions. He'd give me time to pay him back. 

That was a week ago. We met back up with Arthur and Sadie, and together we rode back to camp. Mary-Beth and Tilly helped me to store my things in with Miss Grimshaw's tent for the time being. Miss Grimshaw was more than happy to show me the ropes of the camp, who needed help with what and how to do it. I know that in the game the ladies hated doing chores, and though I find it a little degrading that it's mainly the women who are expected to do all of this work, I know I can't voice my opinion on the matter. At least not yet. Not until they start to trust me. 

So here I am, one week after I was first found by some characters in a video game, scrubbing Hosea's vest on a washboard by the lake. Arthur and Hosea left about two days ago to go on a hunting trip, leaving all their dirty laundry behind. Abigail and Tilly are here with me, helping me out. I've found that doing tasks like these, that require more time and effort, can be a little more enjoyable when done in the right company. Abigail seems to have warmed up to me quite quickly after her and I started talking about kids. I've always loved them, I was almost an obstetrician. 

"John doesn't want any more kids, though." Abigail says, frowning minutely while washing a pair of pants. "I mean, I don't know if I do either, but the way he said it made me... sad. I don't know."

I pause in my washing, looking over to study her face. I can tell that she's actually upset by this. I know that later on John is a better man and actually cares for his family, but right now he's nothing more than a dickwad. 

"Ignore him," I say to her, going back to Hosea's shirt, "if you decide you want another baby, then you have another baby. It doesn't have to be his, honey. I know you love him but there are plenty of men out there who would be more than happy to have a woman like you." 

"You sure know how to sweet talk a woman, Lily." Tilly giggles and smiles at me. "Why don't you compliment me next?"

I laugh out loud, shaking my head fondly. "Well, if you insist. You have the prettiest eyes and smile that I've ever seen, Tilly. You make any room that you walk into light up." 

"Oh, that's good!" Mary-Beth says excitedly, walking over to us. She had been in her tent, doing her 'writing'. Tilly says that it's one of the few things left that brings her joy these days. "Can I use that?"

"Of course," I tell her, squeezing the excess water out of the shirt before throwing it over a tree branch to dry. The process they use to clean clothing here is a little barbaric but I guess it gets the job done. "What are you writing about?"

Mary-Beth clasps her hands together and looks wistfully at the sky. She really  _is_ a hopeless romantic. For some reason, I always liked the idea of her and Lenny together. Lenny is such a nice boy. He's sweet and willing to help us women whenever he can. I feel like he would treat Mary-Beth the way that she wants to be treated. But I also know that Lenny had a crush on that girl Jenny who was killed off in the beginning of the game. It's a shame that she didn't survive. 

"Oh, it's going to be so good! It's about a woman who is left to run her daddy's ranch, and a man with nothing comes looking for a job. She hires them and eventually they fall in love! I've only got the first two chapters written, but I'm hoping to finish it by the time fall comes around." 

"As long as you finish Grimshaw's chores then you'll have more than enough time to focus on your story." Abigail says, looking at Mary-Beth out of the corner of her eye. 

"Grimshaw  _wishes_ she could write books like me." 

"Say that any louder and she'll hear you." I say quietly, acting like I'm trying to be secretive. "She has ears like an elephant." 

The girls all laugh at that and I join in with them. Maybe the other people in the camp are harder to warm up to, but it was almost natural getting to know these ladies. They're probably the only reason I haven't lost my mind by now. 

"Well look what we have here." As soon as I hear the voice I stop laughing, a scowl forming on my face. "Is washing clothes funny now or somethin'?"

"Why don't you get down here and find out. I'm sure you've never actually tried it before." I say in annoyance as I look up at Micah. He walked down to the beach where we were stationed, leaning against the tree where my clean clothes were hanging from and staring at the four of us. 

He turns his head to the side and spits chew out of his mouth before facing me again. He sneers at me, leaning forward when he speaks. "Why don't you come up here and say that to my face."

If it were any other person, even  _Bill_ , who had said that I would've ignored them. But it wasn't Bill. It was Micah. 

"Lily, don't bother." Tilly says as I stand, dropping the pair of pants I had been washing back in the bucket of water. I face Micah, staring up at him. He may be bigger than me, but I can tell by the look on his face that he wasn't actually expecting me to accept his challenge. 

"Listen here, douche-canoe," I say, walking forward and hitting his chest with my finger. He looks down at it in disgust before scowling at me. His greasy hair hangs around his face and his moustache needs trimmed. This man must care  _nothing_ about his appearance. "You may be used to saying whatever the hell you want and not getting any backlash for it, but that's not going to fly with me. I won't tolerate that shit. So you either come around and say something nice, or you keep your trap  _shut_ and stay the hell away." 

I've been getting nothing but rude and nasty comments from Micah since I got here. He's vocal about his distaste for me and isn't afraid to let everyone know. I usually let it slide, but back home I didn't take that. I was a respected person where I came from, and I won't take any disrespect. 

Micah reaches up and wraps his hand around my finger, squeezing it tightly. It hurts, but I don't let him know that. 

"You're nothing but a bitchy  _leech_. You come in here, take  _our_ supplies and expect nothing but kindness in return? I see right through you, sweetheart. As soon as you step out of line I won't hesitate putting you down." There are gasps from the women behind me. "I've got my eye on you." He frowns, and I see confusion flicker across his face briefly. "What in the hell is a 'douche-canoe'?"

I yank my hand out of his grasp. "Don't call me sweetheart." I turn around and ignore his question, going back over to my pail of clothes and picking them up. Tilly and Abigail pack up their things as well, sending glares in Micah's direction before following me back to the main part of camp. Micah stays behind, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as he watches me leave. 

"I can't believe you said that to him." Mary-Beth whispers, looking back and forth between the two of us. "Micah is one of Dutch's favorites--he usually gets whatever he wants around here."

"Yeah," I mutter, "well, that isn't going to fly with me. Where I come from, women are held to the same standard as men." 

"No!" 

I place the bucket on the ground outside MIss Grimshaw's tent. "Yes. And it's times like these that I really miss it." 

Abigail drops her bucket on the ground. "I have to go find Jack, it's getting close to dinner. I'll catch up with you ladies later." We wave goodbye to her as she goes looking for her son. 

"Do you ever think of going back home, Lily?" Tilly asks, placing a comforting hand on my arm. "Sometimes I miss home awful bad. But I like it here too much to go back. These people are my home now, have been for some time."

I pause, thinking of an answer. "I don't know how I would get back home. That's my main problem. In the meantime, I guess I'm just lucky that I found you people. Without you, I'd probably be dead on the side of the road somewhere."

"I know we've only known you for a short time, but I like you Miss Lily. I like you a lot." Mary-Beth says quietly, and her and Tilly smile at me encouragingly. 

I smile back. "I like you girls too. You've been my saving grace while I've been here."

"Well, look who's back." Tilly says, nodding at Arthur and Hosea as they ride in. On the back of Hosea's saddle is a deer, and Arthur has a bear skin rolled up on the back of his. They must have had a successful hunting trip. 

"Thank god!" Pearson exclaims from behind us, startling us a little. "We were getting low on rations. This is just what we needed." He walks forward, helping Hosea to untie the deer from the saddle. 

"Arthur, do you mind helping us skin this when you have a chance?" Hosea asks, grunting as he and Pearson grab the hooves and carry it over to Pearson's wagon. They throw it on the ground as Pearson attaches the back legs to a metal bar. Once the deer is lifted into the air and strung, the both of them take a seat. Arthur follows behind, the bear pelt thrown over his shoulder and held in place with one hand like he was carrying a sack of flower. 

"You mean our own cook can't skin a deer by himself?" Arthur teases, throwing the pelt on the table. 

Pearson scowls. "I was being nice by asking. Or should I just have told you to do it?"

Arthur laughs, waving off the annoyance on Pearson's face. "Sure. I'll do it, you lazy oaf."

"Lazy?" Pearson exclaims. "I think you have me mixed up with Uncle." He jerks his thumb in the direction of said man who's currently dozing at the base of a tree. "The only time he's awake is when he smells food!"

"Or alcohol." Hosea adds, getting a snort from Arthur in the process. 

Arthur heads over to his tent starts to walk over to his tent, but heads in our direction when he sees us standing there. "Good evening ladies."

"Heya Arthur!" Tilly greets. 

"How was the hunt?" Mary-Beth asks. I feel a little awkward, so I pull the clothes out of my bucket and start hanging them up outside the tent. Arthur clears his throat before answering. 

"Good, good. Hosea nearly cost us the bear, but I got it. Wasn't too hard."

"That's good." Tilly says. 

I turn back around to see the girls looking at each other weirdly. Arthur is facing them, but I see him looking at me every few seconds. 

"Arthur." I say, nodding at him. 

He nods back. "Miss Lily."

I place my hands on my hips. "What did I say about calling me that?"

He shakes his head, smiling ever so slightly. "You got me there." He nods at the three of us and walks to his tent, disappearing behind the flap. 

"That was... interestin'." Mary-Beth says coyly, looking at Tilly. Tilly nods in agreement, a smile threatening to break across her face. 

I narrow my eyes at the two of them. It's never good to have two people talk like that in front of someone. It means there's mischief about, and I really don't need that right now. "I'm not even going to ask what you two mean by that. Go back to your tents and get ready for dinner. Pearson said it was going to be ready soon."

They giggle and say goodbye, walking back arm-in-arm to their tent. I shake my head. Those are some odd girls. 

It's not until about two minutes later, when I've finished hanging the clothes up and have just started to wash myself up a bit that I hear the scream. I'm instantly on edge, looking out towards the lake past the tents where I heard the sound come from. Tilly and Mary-Beth emerge from their tents, looking at me in concern. Arthur also comes out, missing his hat and boots, and some of the buttons on his shirt undone. He must have been changing. 

"Who was that?" I ask, starting to walk towards the lake. Dutch also comes out, holding his pistol in his hand. Arthur reaches to his belt and does the same, looking around. 

"What did you do!" Micah comes out from behind Dutch, pointing his gun at me. I stumble back in surprise, holding my hands up. I know Micah and I fight but I didn't know he would be that ready to actually  _shoot_ me.

"Micah!" Hosea warns, pushing the his hand with the gun down. Micah looks at the older man in frustration. 

I feel my heart ready to beat out of my chest. What the hell is going on?

There's another scream, followed by someone yelling for help.  _And it sounds like Abigail_.

I take off running towards the lake, ignoring the shouts from Dutch and Arthur behind me. When I break past the tents I see Abigail standing at the edge of the beach and running for the water. John comes running from where he was standing guard, jumping over plants and bushes with the rifle still held close in his arms. 

"Abigail!" He shouts, running straight for her. She ignores him and continues towards the waters' edge. 

"Jack!" She sobs, holding her skirts in her hands and wading through the murky water. "Jack!" 

I stop, looking out to where she was and feel my heart drop into my stomach. There, out past the dock a little ways was a small blob floating in the water. 

_Oh my god_. 

Before I can react there's a breeze as someone runs past me, so close that I feel their body against mine for a brief second. I watch in surprise as Arthur runs right off the edge of the dock and dives into the water. He resurfaces a few moments later, Jack's tiny body clutched close to his. John is holding Abigail back, stopping her from going out any further into the water. From what I remember, John doesn't know how to swim. Abigail is wearing too much clothing, it would be too heavy once wet and she would drown. 

Arthur swims back to the waters edge, holding the boy out of the water as best he can. Once he's able to stand he holds Jack in his arms and runs to the beach, straight to a sobbing Abigail. They put him down on the ground and she cradles her sons face, but I can see it from where I'm standing. 

He's turning blue. He's not breathing.

I move forward without even thinking, kneeling down in front of Arthur on the other side of Jack. I place my fingers on his neck, and very faintly, I feel it.  _A pulse_. I start to peel him out of his mother's arms but she brushes me off, too busy crying to see that I can  _help_. 

"Abigail, give me Jack now!" I order, holding my hands out. 

"He's dead, oh lord, he's dead! My baby is dead!" She sobs, John holding her as he stares blankly down at his son. Abigail is a mess. 

But I can save Jack. I just need her to let him go. 

"I can save him! Give him to me, now!" I cry, and when she still ignores me I pry her hands off him and pull him away. She cries out, reaching for her son but I turn my back to her and lay him flat on the ground. 

CPR wasn't invented until the mid 1900's, so these people won't know the life-saving power of it. But I do. 

I place my hands over his ribs, and start pumping. I know that I'm most likely going to injure the little boy in the process of doing this, but this is the only thing that will save him. 

"What are you doing to my boy!"

"Dutch, she's killing him!" I feel annoyance at Micah's voice, blocking all of them out and focusing on the task at hand. 

"Back off, Micah." I hear Arthur growl. 

After I've done thirty compressions I tilt the boys soft face up, pulling his mouth open and placing my own over it, breathing air into his little lungs. 

"What the hell is she doin'?" 

When there's no reaction I go back to the compressions, keeping it going all the while muttering under my breath for some sign from this boy. 

"Come on, Jack." I say, feeling my hair come loose from my pony tail and begin to dangle in front of my face. "You can't do this. Your mother needs you. Your daddy needs you." I count each press on his chest in my head, waiting for some sign from him. "We all need you. You help keep this camp sane."

Once the count is up I blow more air in. When there's yet again no reaction, I get ready to start the compressions again, but then it happens. 

Jack's eyes fly open, and he starts coughing water. I feel absolute  _relief_ flood through me, and I carefully turn the little boy over on his side so that he can get all the yucky stuff out of his system. 

"There you go," I say encouragingly, rubbing small circles on his back as he cries through the water coming out of his mouth. "You're going to be fine, Jack. Just fine."

Once he's pretty clear, I pick him up and turn back around to Abigail, placing the boy in her arms. She cries out, grabbing him and holding him close to her chest. She presses her head on top of his and cries. He holds her just as tightly. John leans back, pulling his hat off and putting a hand on Jack's head. He closes his eyes, and though he says nothing, I can see it. The utter relief in his posture is more than enough of an answer to how he feels. 

"Thank you," Abigail looks up at me, tears streaming down her face and her eyes almost closed. "Thank you, Lily. Dear God above, you saved him." She looks back down at Jack and continues to cry. 

"Thank you, Lily." John says quietly, looking up at me. I nod at him, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. I sit back, falling on my ass on the sand. 

"That... was some mighty fine work there young lady." 

I look up, suddenly remembering there are other people here besides just the three of them. Dutch looks down at me, something like amazement in his eye. He steps forward, offering his hand down to me, and I take it slowly. He pulls me to my feet and I stand there, noticing for the first time that the entire camp is there. Micah mutters something under his breath and walks away. Bill follows him soon after. 

"Where did you learn something like that?" Dutch asks. 

"I-I told you." I say, clearing my throat. "I'm a doctor. There's a lot of stuff that I know that might be new to some of you."  _Or all of you_.

"I know you told us that, but I haven't really believed you until now." Dutch answers, looking briefly down at Abigail and John. "You've saved a member of this camp. We are in your debt for helping young Jack."

I shake my head. "You all have done so much for me. Don't even think about what I did. It doesn't compare to the kindness you've shown me. Saving lives is my job, not a repayment."

"Either way; we thank you." Dutch nods to me, and I do the same. I turn away from everyone, walking back to Miss Grimshaw's tent. That was a lot of excitement, and I don't know how I feel about the way they were all looking at me. Like I was some  _hero_. I'm no hero. 

"That was good, what you did back there." I turn to find Arthur standing there, a puddle forming beneath him. 

"You did too." I say, nodding at his wet clothes. "I wouldn't have been able to do that if you hadn't gotten him out of there." 

Arthur hums, inspecting his hands. I scratch an imaginary itch on my arm, not knowing what to say. 

"I wanted to thank you again for letting me borrow some money. I'm going into town soon to see if I can get a job or something to start paying you back."

"What?" Arthur looks up, frowning at me. "That money? Aw, that ain't nothin'. What you just did more than paid for it. Consider us even." 

"I can't do that." I shake my head. "That was two hundred dollars. That's a lot of money." 

"How about you keep helpin' folks like you is, and we'll be good." Arthur holds his hand out for me to shake. I stare down at it, thinking about his offer. 

"Okay," I say and put mine in his own. He holds it tightly, shaking my hand. Inside I tell myself that I'm still going to pay him back, but he doesn't need to know that. 

Even though he was just in freezing water, his hand is warm in my own. Droplets of water run down his face, his neck, until they finally disappear beneath the collar of his shirt. Since it's wet the cloth clings to him, showing the outline of his pectoral and abdominal muscles. I feel my mouth go dry as I continue to stare at him. I don't dare look at his pants.

We stay there for a few seconds, looking at each other before I clear my throat and drop my hand, looking away. 

"I had better get ready for dinner. I need to clean up."

Arthur nods, running the hand that I had been holding through his hair. 

"Me too. I'll see you around, Lily."

"See ya, Arthur."

I totally don't watch him as he walks away.


	5. Intermediate Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing. Literally. Keep on being awesome. 
> 
> I'm also curious: what were your horse's name(s)? Mine were Mango, Saytan, and my final horse was Hades. He was an Arabian and I loved him :(

_"Blunt trauma to the head, heavy internal bleeding in the spleen. Four cracked ribs and one has punctured a lung."_

_I run down the hallway, reading off the clipboard I had filled out moments ago as Cameron pushes the victim to the operating room. I'm already in my scrubs, ready to wash my hands so that I can slip on my mask and gloves._

_"He was in a car accident an hour ago, has been unconscious since discovered." I place the clipboard on the bed beside the man's hand. There are black and blue marks all over his skin, and his eyes are swollen shut. His head is held in place with the neck brace, a breathing mask placed over his face. Amy, another member of my team is steadily pumping it to make sure the poor bastard keeps breathing._

_"We'll get him there, you go get prepped. If we don't do something about his lung soon I won't be of any help to him." Amy nods at me, and I do the same._

_As we reach the intersection I go down a different corridor from them. People are rushing about, frantically trying to get wherever they can. This is what the emergency room is normally like. This is normal for me--this is home. I'm not used to being still, not doing something that gets my blood pumping. I feel alive in these walls, which is ironic considering how many people normally feel like death when they're here._

_I wash my hands, holding them out as Kyle steps up to me and puts my gown on. I get my mask on before my gloves, standing there and making sure to keep everything as germ-free as possible. Kyle follows me to the operating room, pushing the door open for me. I step inside and walk over to the operating table, seeing that the victim is covered in a sheet and the lights are focused on the chest._

_"Scalpel." I say, holding my hand out. Someone places the tool in my hand and I grip it tightly. I lower it and my hand seems to hover over the man's skin._

_"Lily?" Cameron asks. I look up to see him frowning at me behind his own mask. "What are you doing?"_

_I look back down and focus once more._

_But I can't move my hand._

_I can't move anything._

_The beeping on the man's heart monitor seems to speed up, causing Amy to go over and check the equipment._

_"We're losing him!" She says, and starts to prepare the defibrillator._

_"Lily!" Cameron shouts._

_Still my hand stays still. And as I stand there, not doing my one job as a doctor to save peoples' lives, I feel myself start to fade away with the man's life._

_As the heartbeat fades to a straight line, my world fades to black._

* * *

I sit up with a gasp. My heart pounds in my ears, fast and out of control. I grasp at my chest, trying to force myself to calm down. I look around, expecting to see my bedroom with its lone bed and nightstand. Instead I see Susan Grimshaw sleeping to my left, her back turned to me as she lays on her cot. The sun has barely started to rise in the sky.

I'm not at the emergency room, about to do some life-saving surgery. I'm not at my tiny apartment in Pennsylvania, safe asleep in my bed. I'm at Clemens Point, sleeping on a blanket on the ground at the end of Winter. I'm cold, I'm alone, and even though I may be putting on a brave face in front of the others, I'm  _scared_. I don't belong with these people. I'm used to a time over 100 years from now, while they barely know what electricity is.

Making sure that Miss Grimshaw remains asleep, I push off the ground and walk out of our tent. The only other person awake at this hour is Lenny, but that's because he's keeping watch on the outskirts of camp. I can only imagine how tired that boy must be. 

I don't bother putting my shoes on, planning on going down to the water. I slip by the tents of Arthur and Dutch, trying not to make too much noise. I'm afraid that if I woke them up then they would either think someone was trying to ambush them or they would just get pissed off for being woken up. 

Once I'm in the clear I go down to the dock, walking carefully on the wood so I don't get any splinters. At the edge of the planks I sit down and roll up my pant legs to the middle of my calves. I slip my feet in the water, sucking in a breath at the chilliness that spreads through my body. Even though it was already chilly outside and this water doesn't help, I don't really mind it that much. I need something to wake me up right now. 

I sit there, leaning on my hands behind me as I watch the sun rise over the mountains across from the lake. The sun turns from a dark orange to a light yellow, the colors reflecting off the water into something else entirely. It's beautiful. If there's one thing that I don't mind about being here, it's the view. There's so much civilization in my time that there's no chance of seeing something as spectacular as this anymore. Not unless you go out west in the middle of nowhere. 

"Sure is pretty, ain't it?" The deep voice startles me and I sit up quickly, kicking some water with my feet in the process. I look back to see Arthur walking down the edge of the dock, stopping beside me and lowering himself down with a groan. I scoot over to make room for him. I can't say I'm not surprised that he's here. 

"Isn't it a little early for you to be up?"

"Heard you walkin' by my tent," he answers, tipping his hat back slightly so that he can see better, "I sleep with one eye open most nights."

"I'm sorry." I say, pulling my feet out of the water so I can hug my legs close to my chest. I wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on top of my knees as I look out at the ever-rising sun. "I didn't mean to wake anyone up."

He's quiet for a moment. "'S okay. I usually get up at this time anyway." 

"It has to be like 6 o'clock. You mean to tell me you get up at this time everyday?" I raise a brow at him. 

One side of his mouth lifts in a smile as he looks down at his lap. One of his arms is resting atop his knee while the other leg is stretched out. It's a very relaxed stance--and I'm happy that he feels like he can be like that around me. 

"Got me there. Most days I do. Every once in a while I sleep in. Not often though, there's usually work to be done."

"There's always work to be done." My voice is quiet as I look back out at the water. 

"So why are you up this early?" 

I let out a sigh. "I... I miss my home." I shrug, unrolling my pant legs to once more cover my chilled skin. I can feel the goosebumps that are there from the cold water. "I had a dream about it. Just made me realize that I've been here for two weeks."  _And I'm still here somehow._

Arthur hums. "You know, we can help you get home." He says this slowly, as though he's trying to find the right words to say. "We could, well, we could take you to a train or somethin', get you a ticket and send you off to wherever in Pennsylvania it is that you live." 

I smile sadly, focusing on a fish that decided to swim up to the top of the lake in front of us. I watch it move back and forth calmly, almost jealous of how care free it is in this moment. 

"I don't think any of you could help me if you wanted to, Mr. Morgan."

"Are you in some sort of trouble? Daddy tryin' to marry you off to some feller that you don't want?" I can hear the teasing edge in Arthur's voice and can't help but snort at his words. 

"No, I'm not engaged to some fiend if that's what you're trying to ask. Back home I'm more focused on my job than anything. I'm trying to build a life for myself--for my future." I look over to see Arthur watching me closely. "I appreciate everything you people have done for me, though. I really do. If you and Charles hadn't found me that day I'd be dead by now." I smile at him. "So, thank you Arthur. For all that you've done for me."

"It weren't nothin'." He answers quietly, and I can't help but notice how his lips purse slightly as he looks down at his hands. The way his profile looks with the light behind it. How his nose isn't perfectly straight, most likely from being in fights before, but how with the bump it makes him look even more handsome. How his eyelashes are dark and long and make his eyes stand out against his face. 

_Stop. Now._

I clear my throat, looking away and back at the fish. But the fish is gone, and now I'm flustered. 

"You told me that you know how to ride?"

I watch as Arthur brings his legs up and pushes himself to his feet. He peers down at me, one hand automatically brushing over his pistol on his belt. I nod slowly. 

"Barely. Just a few lessons, remember?"

"Well, we're about to change that. You've been cooped up here for, what, two weeks? I think you've earned yourself a break after having to wash Uncle's dirty laundry." 

I let out a laugh at that, smiling at the man. He smiles back, lending me a hand to pull me to my feet. "What do you have in mind?" 

He nods back towards the tents. "Go get dressed and meet me by the horses in ten minutes." 

I nod and walk back the way I came, looking over my shoulder only once to see Arthur watching me as I walk away. I smile at him again, receiving a tip of the hat in response. 

I wash up and dress as fast as I can, putting on a simple shirt and black riding pants before sliding into my boots. I don't want to wake Mary-Beth up, so I simply pull my hair into a pony tail before walking over to where Arthur is standing. He's brushing his horse, the dark brown coat shining in the light. It's easy to tell from one glance that Arthur takes good care of his companion. 

"What's it's name?" I ask, walking to the front of the horse and letting it brush its muzzle over my palm. The softness of its mouth tickles slightly, and I wish that I had a carrot or something to give it. 

Arthur nudges my arm, and I look down to see him holding a sugar cube. I take it with a small smile, placing it in the middle of my hand before offering it to the animal. It doesn't hesitate in biting the sweet treat, the crumbs falling onto the ground below. Once it's done I brush my hands on my pants before stroking the star it has on it's forehead. 

"Winston. Smart name for a smart horse." He pats Winston's neck affectionately. "Alright, let's get goin'." Arthur grabs the horn and the back of the saddle before putting his foot in the stirrup and hoisting himself up. Once he's situated and comfortable he turns to look down at me. 

"This is a tall horse, Mr. Morgan." My words are blunt. 

Arthur chuckles and shakes his head before once more offering his hand to me. I grab his forearm, feeling his fingers wrap around my own arm tightly. I place my hand on the back of the horse and push up, Arthur using my momentum to hoist me further into the air. Once I'm side-saddle I awkwardly fumble around until I have my legs resting behind either of his. I grasp the back of the saddle in my hands, holding on tightly. 

"You good back there?" Winston shuffles beneath us, probably not used to having two people on at a time. 

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. Winston is a powerful horse. I can feel the muscles tense beneath me, ready to be unleashed. For some reason, doing this is the closest I've come to getting that feeling I was addicted to back home. 

Arthur makes a clicking noise and kicks Winston's sides, urging him forward. We go from a walk to a trot fairly quickly, but once we are far enough away from the camp we begin to canter. The three-beat gait makes it harder to stay on, so I can't help but grab a fistful of Arthur's shirt in my hands. 

"All good?" He calls over the wind, turning his head slightly to the side. 

"Just peachy." I say back, trying to ignore the warmth of Arthur's body as it seeps into my fingers. 

"You might want to hold on a little tighter than that!" That's the only warning he gives me before he gives a yell and a big kick to Winston. I barely have time to wrap my arms around his waist like I did two weeks ago before we're galloping across the hills, following the dusty paths. We pass some carriages, the people in them watching us as we go flying by them. A few single riders on horse back greet us and I merely wave at them in return, too afraid to do something for fear of falling off. 

After riding for about twenty minutes Arthur steers Winston off the main path, guiding us through some trees. He slows down to a trot and I finally feel safe enough to remove myself from where I had been hugging his back. 

"Here I thought you was 'just peachy'." Arthur chuckles. He's mocking me again. 

"Do you get some sort of joy out of annoying me?"

"Annoyin' ya? I thought we was havin' fun." He sounds sarcastic. Winston carries us out of the trees and into an open field. It's mainly flat, with little bumps here and there. It's full of tall grass, showing that not many people know about this place. There aren't any pathways here or anything. I'm going to guess that mainly wildlife are the only ones who know about this place. 

"It's beautiful here." I say, feeling the grasses brush along the bottom of my boots. "How did you find this place?"

"Just found it a few days ago. When we was out huntin'. Tracked a deer through here and found this place."

Arthur slides off the horse, keeping a hold of the reigns. "Scoot forward." He urges, and I push forward to settle myself into the saddle. It's still warm from Arthur sitting here. "Good, now give me a minute to adjust the stirrups." 

Arthur hands me the reigns and I hold them tightly as Arthur undoes the belt to shorten the stirrup. Arthur must have some damn long legs because he has to make them really short in order for me to fit them comfortably. Once he's adjusted both of them he steps beside the horse, placing one hand on Winston's neck and squinting as he looks up at me. 

"You said you know the basics?"

I nod. "The  _basics_. Don't expect me to do any barrel racing anytime soon."

Arthur looks at me blankly. "I ain't even gonna say nothin' bout that one."

I look around, trying to see if there's going to be anyone around to watch me fuck up. He taps me on the knee twice to get my attention. "I just want you to start real simple, okay? Just walk in a circle. Or an oval.  _The shape of a ring_. Understand?" 

I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes, lifting two fingers to give him a lazy salute. "Yes, sir." I lightly urge Winston forward. He walks ahead, every so often trying to bend down to get a bite of the grass. I have to give the reigns a sharp tug when he does that and eventually he gets the idea. I walk in a fairly large oval, going around three times before I look over to see Arthur nodding. At this point the grass is trampled enough that Winston has a simple path that he knows to follow. 

"Take him to a trot, but be real easy. Follow rhythm he picks." Arthur calls, nodding his head for me to go. I cluck my tongue and Winston begins to trot. I bounce in the saddle and I feel my heartbeat quicken. I begin to get that sense of adrenaline running in my veins again. 

I trot for a while, getting used to the way Winston moves. Once my foot slipped out of the stirrup but I was quick to correct it. Though I'm nervous about doing this in front of Arthur, I'm glad that he's the one here to help me with this. He's very calm and collected. I don't want to look like a fool in front of him, but I don't get any judging vibes from this man. He just wants to help, not watch me fail. 

"Canter!" Arthur orders. "Move with the saddle." 

I lean back a little and loosen the reigns. I kick Winston and he begins to canter almost instantly. It's a smooth motion, and I decide that this is my favorite. Trotting is too much bouncing and walking is too slow. Cantering is beautiful. 

As I'm rounding the ring by Arthur I see him watching me with a grin. I realize that I'm also grinning, and that this is the happiest I've felt since I got here. The air is crisp and clean, the scenery is beautiful, and I feel like I'm  _flying_. I love it. Why didn't I do this more back home?

"I want you to gallop from that end of the field and back, understand? If you feel unsure then just slow him down, but I want you to try." Arthur says, stepping back slightly. 

"What? Are you sure?" I ask, feeling unsure all of a sudden. 

"I'm never sure about anythin' anymore!" He shrugs. That's great reassurance right there, Arthur Morgan.

"You need to work on your people skills!" I call before I lean down, flattening myself somewhat along the saddle. 

"Hyah!" I yell, snapping the reigns and telling Winston to go faster. He takes off, the wind whipping past my face as we fly through the field. He breathes heavily, snorting with every other touch of his hooves. He stretches his neck out, pushing faster and faster the farther we go. His brown mane flies in the wind, almost hitting me in the face. 

When we get to the end of the field he slows down, skidding his back legs in the dirt as we turn around. I almost lose my footing and fall off as his back legs act like they're going to collapse under him, but then he's back up and running like the wind once more. The breath is stolen from my lungs as we go, and it's only when we slow down enough to come to a stop in front of Arthur that it comes back. I pant almost as Winston is, feeling exhilarated. 

"That..." I say, reaching up to scratch Winston between his ears, "was the coolest thing I've ever done. I've never felt so bad ass before in my life."

Arthur chuckles, taking his hat off to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Bad ass, huh? I can't argue with ya there. You looked pretty good out there, Miss Edwards."

I can't help the blush that floods my cheeks at the compliment. I laugh it off and reach up, tugging my the hair tie out of my wind-swept hair and shake it free. I run my fingers through it, pulling it back once more in a nicer style. My eyes look down at Arthur to find him staring up at me, his hat still held in his hand as he watches me intensely. 

"Arthur?"

I must shake him from whatever stupor he was in, because he pauses only a second before putting his hat on once more. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty hungry. We should head back and see if Pearson has any breakfast made." 

For some reason I can't help but feel a little disappointed by his words. I don't know  _why_ I do, but I do. I hide it by nodding and slipping my feet out of the stirrups so Arthur can move them back for himself. 

"Nah, why don't you lead us back? I'll get on the back." Before I can say anything Arthur has moved around to the back of the horse and has hopped up behind me. I feel his fingers brush my lower back as he grasps the saddle. I shiver slightly at the feeling and feel heat rush to my face. 

Nobody back home has ever made me feel the way that Arthur has. Why do none of those men do anything to me, but a  _video game_ character gives me feelings like I've never felt before? I'm an idiot. This will never work. One of these days I'm going to wake up in my bed and all of this will be gone--just a couple of characters in a game that I play. I can't forget that. 

Once he's on we start going, but I keep us at a canter. Even though I know it's selfish of me, I want to savor this time for a little bit longer. 

Just a little. 


	6. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is getting more attention and I could honestly cry. I love reading what you guys have to say! It was also interesting finding out what the names of your horses were in the game. Maybe I'll do a question for each chapter? The question this time is what was your favorite song from the game? I loved May I Stand Unshaken--I cried when they played it at Arthur's death. RIP my man.
> 
> Long chapter ahead because I'm not sure if I'll have time to write the next two days. Hope you guys have a Happy Holiday's!

The next three days passed in a blur. Arthur and I didn't really talk to each other much when we got back to camp after my riding lesson. Hosea pulled him off to the side and the two of them talked in hushed voices before mounting back up and leaving camp. Miss Grimshaw immediately sought me out and had me go with her to do some more laundry. 

God, I miss washing machines. 

Karen started actually talking to me. When I first came she seemed to steer clear, about as unsure of me as Micah was, but I guess the whole thing with Jack really warmed the idea of me up to people. I'm a little upset that it had to be such circumstances that made it happen, but it is what it is. 

Apparently Mary-Beth is obsessed with Karen and Sean's relationship. I've begun to notice that at night the two of them like to drink--a lot--and then go back to one of their tents and be quite loud in their...passions. It's cute that even these outlaws can find some sort of romance even in these desolate times. 

Molly and Dutch are romantic, sure, but Molly's is more of a fascination with Dutch than anything. He's eye candy to her, and I get the feeling that she believes she's better than everyone just because she's with Dutch. Molly seems nice enough, but when the man doesn't give her enough attention she makes it known that she's in no mood for company. 

Which is all the time. 

And then there's Abigail and John. Apparently in the first game John and Abigail have a very nice relationship, or AKA, he actually acts like he enjoys her company. Right now the only impression I get from him is that he would rather be anywhere than here with his son and the mother of his child. I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially when people tell me he's just dumb and doesn't know what he's doing with his life, but it's hard to continue seeing the best in people when they only show the worst. 

Abigail wanted to have a talk with John about something, so she asked me to take Jack and the dog, Cain, for a walk. Which is why I'm currently knee-deep in weeds and trying to make sure that Jack stays away from poisonous plants as we do a little 'exploring'. 

"Is it okay for Cain to be eating that?" Jack asks me, pausing from picking a flower to peer over at the mutt. Cain is currently gnawing on a weed over by some rocks. Cain hasn't been around a lot since I've been here, but he sure is friendly now that he's gotten to know me. Sometimes I wake up and he's laying down a few feet from me, watching me with those big puppy dog eyes of his. 

"He's fine. Sometimes cats and dogs eat grass and weeds like that--it's sort of like medicine to them. It means they have an upset stomach." I bend down and help Jack pick a flower that was being especially difficult to pull. 

Jack adds the flower to the bundle he already has in his arms. I smile because I already know that he's just going to give all of them to his mother when we get back. 

"I don't know why that man upsets mommy so much."

I pull up shot, frowning down at the six-year old. "That man? Do you mean Mr. Marston?"

Jack nods, kicking a rock at his feet. "Mommy always tells me I should be polite and respectful to him, but I don't like how he makes her sad."

"Well, that man is you father, Jack."

"I know." Jack looks up at me, squinting against the light of the sun. "I just wish he made mommy happy."

My heart tugs. "Oh, Jack, he wants your mommy to be happy. He wants you to be happy too, you know that right?"

Jack shrugs, looking back down and continuing on. I follow after him, crossing my arms and watching as Cain comes over to walk alongside Jack. The dog sniffs the flowers before threatening to eat them. Jack pulls the bundle to the side before scolding the dog with a giggle. 

"How often do you talk to your daddy?"

Jack walks over to a couple of large rocks, climbing up them and plopping down on top. He's eye-level with me when he's sitting there, so I remain standing as I talk to him. 

"He isn't around a lot, so not much." Jack begins to sort through his flowers, putting them in a pretty order. "When he is here he talks to me, though. But not long. Mommy usually has something to say to him so she sends me away so I don't have to hear her yell at him."

This poor boy. I just wish that John would man up and be the father that I know he can be. I vaguely remember that something happens that triggers John to pay more attention to Jack, but I don't remember what or when. Ever since Jack almost drowned he's gotten a little better, but now he just seems  _scared_. A part of me feels like he's afraid to get close to the boy in case something  _does_ happen to him.

In fact, that's something that I've started to notice. The longer I'm here at this camp and with these people, the less I remember of the game. I didn't get very far to begin with, but I'm having trouble remembering important details. I  _know_ that something is going to happen with the Braithwaites, but for the life of me I can't remember what. And that scares me. This isn't an easy game--there's a lot of bad things that happen, and not knowing what or how to stop is scares the shit out of me. 

"Would you like me to have a talk with him? Do you want to spend some time with him?"

Jack kicks his little legs against the rock, looking around as he thinks of an answer to my question. 

"I don't know." He finally says, looking back down at his flowers. He finishes arranging them, putting the finishing touch on them and having me help him off the rock. I lift him under his arms and place him back on the ground and we start walking back in the direction we came. I struggle not to step on Cain as he insists on trotting close to my feet. 

I don't say anything to Jack, but I decide that I'm going to talk to Abigail first. Then, if she's okay with it, I'll have a talk with John. I know that I'm not a favorite in his eyes, but I'll make him listen to me. I'll find a way. 

* * *

"Mommy, look what I got you!" Jack calls, running up to Abigail once we get back to camp. His little legs carry him forward as he heads excitedly to where Abigail is standing outside their tent. She has a sour look on her face that instantly dissolves when she sees Jack. I notice that John is over by the campfire now, sipping a bottle of what's most likely alcohol. 

"Hey, Abigail, can I talk to you for a second?" 

Abigail stops fawning over Jack's flowers and looks up at me, a curious look in her eye. She has Jack take the flowers and put them by her bed in the tent as she walks over to me. She draws her shawl tightly around her shoulders, trying to keep the cold out. 

"Is somethin' wrong with Jack?" 

I shake my head and she loses the worried look in her eyes. "No, nothing's wrong with Jack. He's fine. He had fun on our walk." I look over her shoulder at where the boy is trying to make the flowers lean against the cloth of the tent. "It's about him and John."

Abigail frowns, the sour look coming back. "What did that bastard do now?"

"Well, it's more about what he's  _going_ to do. Jack wants to know his father--he wants to spend time with him. John isn't trying hard enough."

Abigail throws her arms up. "I've told him that. Think he listens to me? The son of a bitch doesn't even believe that he's his  _son_." 

"That is a problem." I agree with her. "I was wondering if it would be okay with you if I had a talk with John about this. I understand if you don't want me getting involved."

Abigail shakes her head. "Feel free. Maybe you'll have a better time getting through his thick head." She turns around and walks back to Jack, sitting down on her bed and listening to the boy talk animatedly about his walk with me. 

I take a deep breath and make my way over to the log that John's sitting at. I sit down beside me, resting my hands on my knees. He doesn't look at me as I sit down, continuing to stare into the flames as he drinks from the bottle. 

"Abigail send you?" I look over to see him turning the bottle of brandy around in his hands. 

"Yes...no. This is more of a personal thing than for her."

John looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "You two seem close."

I shrug, looking down at my fingernails. "I guess you could say that."

"Whatchu want?"

I sigh, turning my whole body this time to face John. He leans back slightly, raising a brow. 

"I just... I think you need to spend more time with Jack." John lets out a scoff, shaking his head as he takes another swig. "Listen to me, John. That boy told me today that he wants to get to know you. He's only  _six_. It's not his fault that you're distant. He's a sweet little boy, and you're doing him wrong by acting the way you are."

"Acting the way  _I am_ _?"_ John frowns, his nose crinkling as he looks at me. "And just how am I acting?"

"Like an idiot." 

"That's a sure way to get someone to like ya."

"John Marston, I don't care if you don't like me." I point my finger at him, narrowing my eyes. "I care about that little boy, though. You either need to get your shit together and start being more involved, or you're going to lose them both. I know you care about them, even if you haven't accepted it yet."

"I don't have to listen to you." John stands, gripping his bottle tightly and stepping over the log. 

"You better watch, John. You never know when something is going to happen." 

John stiffens, pausing before turning back to me. His face is dark as he glares at me from under his hat. "Is that a threat?"

I stand as well, stepping up so that I'm right in front of him. He looks down at me but I'm not intimidated. I control an entire emergency room back home. Large people don't intimidate me as much as they like to believe they do. 

"No, that's a warning. Nobody can control the future. You almost lost Jack when he nearly drowned. I did you a big service by saving that boy's life. Now I want you to repay that service and actually  _talk_ to him." I yank the bottle out of his hand, ignoring his protests. "And stop drinking so damn much. It's hardly one in the afternoon. You're going to ruin your liver."

I walk around John, feeling his stare on my back the entire way back to Miss Grimshaw's tent. I turn around once I'm there and see him still watching me from where he was last standing at the campfire. I maintain eye contact as I pour the liquid on the ground, letting it be absorbed by the dirt. I drop the bottle and make a face, challenging him. I break the staring contest and walk over to the horses, getting ready to feed them for the day. 

Suck on that, Marston.

* * *

Later that night I'm eating dinner with Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen when we notice the sound of a horse coming. The four of us pause in our eating, wondering who it could be. I put my spoon back down, straining to see the face of the mystery rider in the dark. 

"Who's there?" John's raspy voice calls. 

"It's me, ya buffoon." Arthur replies, the southern twang prominent in his voice. 

Arthur rides in on Winston, steering the horse over to the hitching post before slipping down and removing the saddle. He throws it over the log and has Winston join the others in their grazing for the night. He heads straight for Dutch's tent, not saying anything to us as he walks over there. We watch as he opens the flap and slips inside, Micah following shortly after. 

"He's been gone a while. Sean came back a few hours ago, smelled like tobacco." Karen supplies, resuming her eating. 

"I hear after Arthur and Hosea gave away that moonshine at the saloon in Rhodes that Catherine Braithwaite wanted them to do something to the Gray's for her." Tilly shakes her head, stirring the food in her bowl for a moment. "I don't think we should be involved in either of them's business."

I stare at the tent that Arthur disappeared into, seeing the faint outline of three people thanks to the light Dutch has inside. They appear to be having a heated discussion over something. 

"What about you, Miss Edwards?" Mary-Beth asks. I look away from the tent and at the three ladies. 

"What about me?"

"How do you feel about all this?"

I look at how they're watching me, some concerned and some excited (basically Karen--she seems to be a real wild child). I know that something goes wrong with this, I just don't know what. It's so frustrating. 

"I don't think it's a good idea. If you get tangled up in one side of things and the other finds out? Then it's trouble, and the same vice-versa. I get the feeling that Dutch may want to play both sides at the same time, which is even worse. I think we should play it careful, stick to our own business." 

"Finally, someone with a head on their shoulders." We look behind us to see Hosea walking towards us, a bowl of Pearson's stew held in his hands. I scoot down, making room for him to sit on the edge of the table so I sit between him and Mary-Beth. "I've been trying to tell Dutch that we should be trying to make some honest money--even if it is from some those who aren't honest themselves."

"I know I haven't been with you guys long, but I would hate for something to happen to you. I just get a bad feeling from all of this." I sip some of my food, noting that its now gone cold. The weather hasn't warmed up that much with the nights still sometimes reaching below freezing temperatures. If it weren't for the extra blanket I bought when we went to town then I would be freezing a lot more. 

"That makes two of us. However, Dutch is steadfast. He's sure that there is money to be found in all of this business. Me? Not so much." Hosea lifts his spoon to his mouth and throws us a wink. "But you didn't hear that from me."

We laugh, going back to our food. Since mine has gone cold I don't really eat anymore of it. Talking about the situation with the Braithwaites seems to not have helped my appetite any. 

We talk for a few more minutes before I decide that I'm done. I stand, grabbing my dishes and taking them to the wash bin beside Pearson's set up. I clean out my stuff, washing it and putting it away before drying my hands and turning to go lay down for the night. Arthur chooses that moment to walk out of Dutch's tent, shaking his head minutely as he walks over to his own tent. I try not to stare at him as he takes his jacket and hat off, laying them on top of his chest before sitting on his bed and rubbing his arm. I take a closer look and see that his shirt is slashed and what appears to be blood on his fingers as he prods the area.

Before I even know what I'm doing I'm grabbing a needle and thread, some alcohol and any other medical supplies I might need as I head to his tent. He looks up when I get close, frowning when he sees the things I have in my hands. 

"I'm fine."

He's gruff, and I'm a little surprised. He hasn't been that terse when speaking to me since we first met. Whatever he talked to Dutch about must have put him in a real foul mood. I ignore his words and step into the tent, placing my supplies on the little table he has there before turning to him. I wait for him to get the hint that I'm not leaving. 

"You take this doctor stuff too seriously," he mumbles but takes his ammo belt off anyway before beginning to unbutton his shirt. 

I go back to the table and begin to get my materials ready. I hold the needle over the flame of the candle he has sitting on the table, knowing that's the best way I can disinfect it. "I'm not acting, Mr. Morgan. I am a doctor." I thread the needle, tying it to the eye and opening the bottle of alcohol. "I don't know what it's going to take for you to finally realize that." 

I turn back around and feel any more words I had been ready to spew die in my throat. His shirt is completely discarded now, balled up and thrown on top of his chest. It's ripped, so it'll have to be sewn if he wants to wear it again. That's not what renders me speechless. 

Arthur Morgan is a  _very_ attractive man, and that's when he's actually wearing clothing. Without a shirt on? Any woman would swoon. He's pale, a slight farmer's tan apparent on his skin from the types of shirts he wears. He has a very muscled chest and abdomen, and I find my fingers itching to touch him. His arms are just as built as I imagined they would be. The veins are prominent on his muscular arms as they go from his wrist to his shoulder. I feel my mouth go dry as I imagine just how strong this man in front of me actually is. 

"Ya just gonna stare or are ya gonna be this doc that you claim ta be?" Arthur's teasing voice breaks my reverie, and I try to hide my blush at being caught staring. I send him a glare and pour some of the alcohol on a rag. 

"One of these days you're going to need me to begging for me to do my doctor thing and I'm just going to laugh at you." 

I grab his bicep, trying not to think too much about the muscle beneath my hand and hold it still as I press the cloth to his wound. It's not too bad, a slice that's a couple inches long and not too deep. Arthur hisses as it burns his wound, flinching slightly. He sucks in air through his teeth, curling his lip as he turns to the side. I flicker my eyes up to him for a second before focusing on the matter at hand. 

"You seem tense." I say, trying to start a conversation.

"You're currently burnin' my skin off. Course I'm gonna be tense." 

"No," I say, finishing cleaning the wound and putting the rag down before picking up the needle, "I mean you seem... upset. An upset sort of tense."

"Is that even a thing?"

I shrug, beginning to sew his wound shut. He grunts softly as the needle pierces his skin but that's the only clue I get that he's in pain. He looks down at my hands, watching me work. 

"You seem to know what you're doing." 

I pause, giving him an exasperated look. "Here's your sign, cowboy." I keep going, putting the needle through his skin about six times before I finish it off. I take the thread, biting down on it with my teeth so that it breaks off from the needle. I tie a little knot, making sure that the thread isn't too loose. 

Arthur lets out a large sigh as I grab the bottle of alcohol again. I hand it to him as he gives me a confused look. 

"It'll help with the pain. Stitches with no pain medication isn't fun." 

Arthur slowly nods, going along with whatever it is I say. He grabs the bottle and tips it back, taking three large swallows before letting out a breath. He coughs slightly--I can only imagine how his throat is burning from all that. 

"Dutch is..." Arthur starts quietly, staring intently at the label on the bottle. I pause in packing up my materials, not actually expecting him to talk about anything. "Dutch is ready to stir up trouble. I ain't so sure, but Micah is there backin' him up and tellin' him it's a good idea." 

I frown. "I know that people say John is stupid, but I personally believe that Micah has him beat." 

Arthur chuckles, shaking his head and letting his elbows rest on his knees as he slouches. I get a glimpse of his back and all the scars there. He had scars on his chest, but the ones on his back are bigger. Meaner. I can only imagine what Arthur went through when he got them. His spine sticks out from his back slightly and I see more muscles. 

_This man... mmm._

"I don't understand why ya look at me like that." Arthur once more catches me staring. "Ain't much to look at. Just an old man with some ugly scars." He mumbles the last part to himself more than to me. 

_Oh, no you don't_. I remember that if you made Arthur look in the mirror in a hotel room he would make mean comments about himself. This poor man really hates himself. If only he saw himself the way that I see him then he wouldn't say such mean things about, well, himself.

"Arthur Morgan, you cut that shit out right now or else I'm going to smack you upside the head." He looks up at me, surprised by my outburst. "I don't like it when my friends say mean things about themselves. I don't let other people talk bad, what makes you think I would let  _them_ talk bad?"

Arthur leans back on one elbow so he's fully facing me. "We friends now?"

My cheeks flush as I realize my slip. "Well, you don't just give someone two hundred dollars and riding lessons unless they mean something to you."

Arthur stares at me, and I can tell he's searching my face for... _I don't know_. We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, waiting for the other to say something,  _do_ something. 

"Why, uh, why don't you lay down and I'll rub you for a little bit?" Arthur's eyebrows fly into his hairline and I feel my eyes widen as the implication of what I just said sinks in. "Your shoulders! I mean I'll give you a shoulder rub! I hear that you've been through a lot these past few days. Riding a horse for that long can't be good for your posture." 

Arthur's cheeks redden slightly but he chuckles anyway. "Let me put a shirt on first. That way people don't get the wrong idea."

"Your tent is open, Arthur." I say wryly, standing to my feet. "I don't know about you, but even if I were to do something I wouldn't do it where everyone could see."

Arthur shrugs, bending down to his chest and pulling out a simple workman's shirt before shrugging it on. "Everyone's got their tastes." He winks at me before kicking his boots off and stretching out on his stomach on his bed. He grunts, trying to situate himself comfortably on the tough mattress. 

My mouth drops open slightly at his comment and I'm glad that he can't see my face right now. Once his arms are pillowed under his head I step forward, laying my hands on his shoulders before finding the appropriate spots to press into. 

The first knot that I work on draws a long groan out of him. I smirk as I press into the spot, pressing into the hard muscle beneath me. "That feel good, cowboy?"

I move onto another spot and begin kneading my hands there, hearing him let out another groan. His breathing is long and slow, relaxing more and more the longer I work on him. "You've got some magic hands, Doc."

I raise a brow, looking at his face. His head is turned to the side and I see his eyes are closed, mouth parted slightly as he breathes deeply. "I thought you didn't believe I was a doctor?"

"Aw, I've believed ya since ya saved little Jack." He opens one eye and looks up at me. "Just like ta pick on ya."

I reach up and lightly flick his ear. His mouth curls up in a grin as he closes his eyes again. 

I work on his back for another ten minutes, slowly working my way from his shoulders down his back, trying to work out the worst kinks I can find. I can tell that Arthur clearly is enjoying it by the noises he makes, some of them borderline sexual. I just hope that the people who hear it don't get the wrong idea. 

"Next time you get injured like this, you come straight to me. You understand?" I say to him after a few minutes of silence, pressing my fingers back up to his shoulders. When he doesn't respond I check and see that he's fallen asleep. 

He's breathing lightly through his mouth, lashes resting against his cheek and any lines on his forehead gone. I find it sad that the only time he appears truly relaxed is when he's sleeping. I brush the long hair on his head out of his face so that it doesn't bother him. 

I straighten back up, shaking my head with a soft laugh as I grab his blanket from the chest and throw it over him. He doesn't stir, remaining immobile as I basically tuck him in. I gather up my supplies and blow the candle out before leaving the tent and closing the flaps behind me. 

"Where's my back rub?" I turn in the dark to see Micah leaning on a tree outside Dutch's tent, watching me as he smokes a cigarette. 

"Buried with your intelligence--oh wait, you don't have that either." I roll my eyes, walking past him. 

Micah grabs my arm, stopping me from going any further. He throws his cigarette on the ground, stomping on it with his boot before putting his face close to mine. 

"You'd better watch yourself, Missy. You don't wanna be on my bad side." 

I narrow my eyes at the greasy man. "You're already on mine." I yank my arm out of his grasp and walk back to Miss Grimshaw's tent, feeling his eyes on me the entire way. 

 

 


	7. Friends in Low Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are overwhelming me with your thoughts on this story and I LOVE IT. Literally makes my day when I see someone commented. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays! 
> 
> What was your favorite mission in the game? I loved 'Blessed are the Peacemakers', even though that's the one where our poor Arthur is kidnapped by the O'Driscoll's. (Which may or may not play a part in this story soon........)

"Miss Edwards, will you please join me for a moment?" 

Dutch's voice sails through the camp, reaching me all the way over by the horses even though he's back by his tent. I stop brushing Winston, slipping the gentle giant one more sugar cube before putting my supplies back in Arthur's saddlebag and trudging back over to where Dutch is waiting for me. 

"Yes, Mr. Van Der Linde?" I ask, giving him a sly smile as I address him in the same fashion that he addressed me. "You know I prefer Lily." 

"My apologies, Miss Lily." Dutch grins, stepping to the side and holding the flap to his tent open for me to slip inside. I do, noticing that Josiah Trelawny and Arthur are already inside, both of them seated and discussing something. They stop talking once I step inside, Josiah standing and offering a hand out to me. 

"Josiah Trelawny," he introduces as I put my hand in his for him to shake. Only he doesn't shake it, he instead lifts it to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles. "A pleasure to meet a fine young woman such as yourself."

I feel my eyebrows raise, a heat flooding my cheeks. I've never had someone do that to me, mainly because it's a very old-fashioned thing to do. Or something they do in Paris, I'm not sure. All I know is that it's never been done to  _me_. 

"Nice to meet you Mr. Trelawny. I, uh, I'm Lily Edwards." 

Josiah is a handsome man--it's hard to deny it. But I know his character and what he's like. He's a slimy man, sometimes working for both the law and the outlaws. It's hard to say where his true loyalty lies. 

"Lily. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Alright," Arthur interrupts, standing as well and moving to step in front of Josiah. "Dutch, can you just explain the situation here?" Arthur frowns at Josiah from under his hat, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of us. 

"Lily," Dutch grabs my attention and I pull my hand out of Josiah's grasp, "you've been here for, what, a month now?" 

I think for a minute before nodding. I guess it really has been a month? It was long at first, but time seems to fly the longer I'm here. I've got good company around me to take my mind off things. It's never boring here at Clemens Point. 

"Well, we've been talking and I thought that maybe it was time for you to... get a taste of what it is we do around here." 

I raise a brow. "Who's been talking?"

"Er, Dutch, Hosea, Micah and I. Just thought that maybe you'd like ta get out for a bit. We know the other ladies don' like bein' cooped up for too long." Arthur rubs the back of his neck as he looks at me. I can see the uncertainty in his eye. 

"Micah? What does  _Micah_ want me to do?" I frown, unable to keep the bite from my voice. Dutch's smile merely widens at it. 

"Micah is unimportant." Dutch nods his head at Josiah. "We just want to see how you do. Find you a place here amongst us."

"Don't you need a doctor?" I ask, my voice quiet. Though I don't always enjoy the chores that I have to do here, I don't know how I would do if I was forced to kill someone or fight someone. I know what this group of outlaws is like. They kill if they have to, and that's just not who I am. I save lives, not take them. 

"Beauty  _and_ brains!" Josiah exclaims from the side. Arthur shoots him a dirty look.

"We do, and that's perfect for you. But we don't  _always_ need a doctor." Dutch continues, ignoring the fancily dressed man. "You'd get bored if there was nothing around here to do, and I know that Miss Grimshaw can be a lot to handle sometimes." 

"That's where I come in." Josiah grins at me. "I have a... _contact_... who gives me tips every now and again. Just little stage coach's that may have some stuff of interest to people. Arthur here is coming with me to check out a new lead, and we thought that this would be a perfect time for a newcomer like yourself to join us." 

"What do you say, Lily?" Dutch sits down on his bed, crossing his arms as he looks between the three of us. "Are you ready to be a Van Der Linde?"

I don't know how to answer at first. Josiah seems excited, though I don't think it's entirely due to what is about to happen. Dutch is watching me carefully, waiting on my answer. I feel like this will either make or break my chance of being a real Van Der Linde, and earning my place here with this group of people. And Arthur? Arthur seems concerned almost. I kind of feel that he's afraid of pressuring me almost, but I'm a big girl. I can make decisions for myself. He doesn't need to worry about trying to force me into anything, because if I truly didn't want to do something then I would make sure they know it. 

"Okay, yeah. I'll try it." 

Josiah steps forward quickly, looping my arm with his own and steering us out of the tent. "I'm so glad you said that. Don't worry, if you stick by my side and do everything I say then it will all go according to plan." He walks us over to the horses and quickly climbs on his own, watching me expectantly. 

I rub my arm suddenly shy. "I don't have a horse." 

Josiah makes an overly surprised face. "You don't have a ho- my heavens! Well, then I suppose you'll just have to ride with me." He reaches an arm down and I hesitate to take it. 

"The lady rides with me." Arthur walks past me and over to Winston, stopping by the side of the horse and gesturing for me to come over with a wave of his hand. 

I smile thinly at Joisah, noting his disappointed look and walk over to Arthur. I mouth 'thank you' on my way over, snorting softly when Arthur grins at me. 

"He's too much for me to handle," Arthur mutters quietly enough that only I can hear. "Figured you'd want a break from that." 

"How kind of you." I say teasingly. Arthur shakes his head with a smile and helps me up, placing his hands on my waist to hoist me onto the back of Winston. My skin tingles where he places his hands and I try to ignore it, knowing that I have to be the only one who feels it. 

Once Arthur is on and in the saddle I wrap my arms around his waist once more, taking a secret pleasure in the strength and security I feel when I'm with him. Josiah shakes his head and we start out, leaving the camp and heading towards Rhodes. 

There's little talk along the way. Josiah explains that we're going to go see a friend of his, Alden Carruthers. He's a clerk at the train station who is underappreciated in his position to say the least. We hitch our horses outside the train station, Josiah instructing me to wait with the horses while they go inside. I frown, unhappy with being told to stay behind but don't say anything. Arthur shakes his head at Josiah but goes along inside with the man to converse. 

"Bet you'd rather be anywhere but here, huh?" I say quietly, reaching forward to scratch Winston between his ears. He stretches back further to get more, closing his eyes as he bobs his head up and down. I giggle softly, loving the response this horse gives me anytime I show it some form of affection. 

"We should do that, ya know. Once we get ya the money." Arthur startles me as I sit back down, looking to where the two men are climbing down the steps of the train station. 

"Do what?"

"Get ya your own horse. Can't use mine all the time." 

I pout, sticking my bottom lip out in an exaggerated fashion. "But what if I want Winston?" 

Arthur blanches, looking up at me with no clue what to say. I take pity on him and shake my head, laughing all the while. 

"I'm just kidding, cowboy. Don't get your spurs in a twist."

Arthur's mouth curls up into a grin and he lets out a raspy chuckle. "You sure do get your rocks off on yankin' my chain." He grabs the saddle and hauls himself back up, settling down in front of me. "But I'm serious 'bout the horse. If we get in a bind then you got nothin' to ride. You won't always be able to be on Winston with me."

"I could always ride with Micah." I mutter, rolling my eyes. Arthur snorts. 

"I imagine he'd like that about as much as you would." 

"I'd shoot him and steal his horse."

"Ahem," Josiah interrupts, looking back and forth between Arthur and I for a moment before making his horse start to walk. "My dear friend Alden told us about a carriage coming through. There's a rich lady in it, supposed to be carrying some precious cargo in the back."

"You and I are gonna get that chest while Trelawny here distracts 'em." Arthur explains, turning his head slightly to talk to me over his shoulder. I nod, loosening my hold on his waist and leaning back a little bit. 

"Okay," I adjust myself on Winston's back for a moment before clearing my throat. "So what do we do?"

"While I distract them, you and Arthur are going to sneak up to the back of the carriage and get the cash. If the chest is too big to get away with, then just pick the lock and take as much as you can." Josiah looks back and throws a wink my way. I look down at the ground, watching Winston's hooves as we trot. 

We ride on for a little bit longer, stopping once we reach a fairly private part of the road. Josiah instructs us to hide behind a group of trees while he waits on the side of the road with his horse. Arthur helps me off his horse and we crouch down, moving over to stay behind a fallen tree. 

"Do you know how to shoot a gun?"

"Huh?" I ask, tearing my eyes away from the hill that the carriage is supposed to be coming from. Arthur is staring at me, one hand on the tree log and the other holding a pistol. "Shoot a gun?"

"Yeah."

"Um, I mean, I have? A few times? I'm not that good with it, though." 

Arthur checks that it's loaded before gripping it by the barrel and holding it out to me. I look down at it and then back up to him, not sure what to do.

"I want you to have somethin' to protect yourself with in case things get hairy."

"Won't you be there to have my back?" 

Arthur's eyes soften, looking at me with some unnamed emotion. "I'll always try my best to be there to protect ya. But in the off chance that I'm  _not_ there, you need somethin'. This is the best I can do for ya right now."

I look down at the gun again, noting how small it looks in Arthur's hand. But I know better. I know how powerful that tiny weapon actually is, how easily it can end a life. I've taken enough bullets out of people to learn just how serious it is to have one. 

"I don't like it."

Arthur makes a noise in the back of his throat. "There's a lotta things in this world that I don't like. But if we don't adapt then we die, and I'd rather ya didn't die."

I stare at Arthur, just now noticing how close we actually are behind this tree. Josiah is on the other side of the road and can't see the two of us back here, so we're basically alone. Arthur must have cleaned up this morning because his face is clean shaven. There's no facial hair, and I'm a little sad about it. He's handsome man without it though, so I won't complain too much. Besides, when he has no hair it's easier to see the scar on his chin and it shows his smile off better. I love his smile. He seems like the kind of guy who doesn't do it often, so when I actually succeed in making him smile it seems special. 

I let out a deep breath through my nose, reaching out and taking the gun gently. I hold the handle tightly, making sure to keep my finger off the trigger. I don't want to accidentally fire it and shoot myself. 

"We'll get ya your own guns too." Arthur smirks at me. "I like using both of my pistols for battle."

I go to respond when I see Josiah waving his hand. There at the top of the hill is the carriage, two men sitting on the top, driving it, while another follows alongside it on horseback. The man sitting beside the driver and the man on horseback are armed, both showing Arthur and I that the carriage is definitely carrying something valuable. 

Once the carriage passes by us, Josiah steps out of the shadows on his horse and rides after them, calling out to try to get their attention. He does eventually, but he also gets two rifles aimed in his direction. He holds his hands up pleadingly, trying to show he means no harm. It's hard to make out what it is he's saying, but it must work because eventually this lady steps out of the carriage and the man on the horse gets off, going out to watch her. 

"That's our cue," Arthur nudges me gently, and I follow him as he steps out from behind the log. I shove the gun into the waistband of my pants carefully. We sneak over to the carriage, staying low and trying not to make any noise. When we reach the back of the carriage, Arthur slowly lifts the lid of the trunk, trying not to make it creak. He holds it open as I peer inside, seeing a large chest with a lock on it. I frown, looking up at Arthur. 

"Bag." He whispers quietly, nodding down at his satchel. He's keeping the trunk open so I get in his bag, rummaging around until I find a lock pick. I pull it out and turn back to the chest, inserting the object into the lock. 

I've never picked a lock before. I've tried unlocking my door to my apartment with a bobby pin like they do in the movies but I failed miserably and had to call maintenance to make them unlock it for me. 

For some reason, this is  _way_ easier. I don't know if that's a good thing for us, or a horribly bad thing for people who lock things up. 

The lock falls off into my hand after a minute of fumbling around. I place it on the floor of the trunk quietly and lift the lid of the chest, wincing when it makes a squeaking noise. I look up at Arthur, watching as he looks to see if anyone noticed. He finally shakes his head and I go back to the chest. 

Holy. Shit. 

This woman? Whoever she is? Filthy rich. 

There are two gold bars inside, along with bundles of cash and a whole bag of jewelry. I feel my mouth drop open as I begin to shove everything in the jewelry bag. It's heavy, like,  _really_ heavy. Once I have the bag full I pull it shut, lifting it out of the trunk with a quiet groan and setting it on the ground. Arthur closes the trunk again and bends down, taking the bag from my hands and lifting it over his shoulder. He nods for me to follow him back to where we came from. 

I'm nervous the entire time, afraid that at any moment the men with the guns are just going to look behind them for some reason and see a man and a woman sneaking away with a suspiciously large bag that appeared from their carriage. But, they don't, and Arthur and I safely reach Winston once more. 

Arthur lifts me up onto the horse before attaching the money to Winston's saddle. Then he's on the horse again and we're riding away, leaving Josiah to find a reason to say goodbye to the mystery woman on his own. 

Once we're a good distance away Arthur lets out a whoop. I laugh, tightening my arms around his waist as he urges Winston to go faster.

"Did you see all that money?" He calls back over the wind. 

I smile. "I did. It was heavy enough. Slow poor Winston down--he's carrying a lot of cargo." 

Arthur does slow him down, patting the horse on the side of his neck affectionately. "You did good. We got a good haul here."

"I barely did anything," I scoff, looking to the side to see some deer run off into the trees. 

"You picked that lock. I woulda made a lotta noise if I were by myself, that trunk was heavy."

"You'd have been just fine." 

Arthur mutters something under his breath. "What?"

"Nothin'." He says, and makes Winston begin to canter again. 

Soon enough we reach the camp, Arthur calling out to Sadie to let her know we're back. Sadie nods at the two of us before looking back straight ahead. She takes her job when she watches camp seriously, which I guess is a good thing. 

Arthur stops Winston, sliding off and then I follow suit. He detaches the bag of money, walking over to his tent. I follow him and he throws the bag on his bed, dumping the contents out before sorting through it. He counts it out, whistling softly when he's finished. 

"There's about two thousand dollars here." He looks up at me, a spark in his eye. Having money sure does excite the man. 

"That's good?" I say, unsure of what kind of an answer he wants. Back home two thousand dollars was a lot, sure, but not really anything I wasn't that used to. I have a lot of money from working at the hospital, just never really had a chance to spend it. I've been saving it, trying to make sure that when the time comes I won't have to worry about having money for what I want to do. Whether it's buying a better house or providing for my family or going on vacation. But it's just me at home, so I don't have any reason to spend it. 

God, I do miss having  _some_ money though. I don't like taking money from people. Borrowing that money from Arthur was hard for me to do. I'm no charity case, I always pay back what I take. I prefer spending money on other people than having them spend it on me. 

"That's real good, darlin'." Arthur isn't really focusing on me when he calls me by the pet name. I blush, not used to having him call me anything other than 'Lily' or 'Miss Edwards'. 

Darling? I kinda like it. 

"This is your take." He breaks me out of my reverie and I look down to see him holding a wad of cash in his hands. 

"Arthur, I don't need that. I didn't even do anything!" 

Arthur waves me off. "This couldn't have been done without ya. Half of the load goes to the camp and then the rest is split up between whoever was involved. Trelawny don't get none because he said this was a favor to us. So that means that the other half goes to you and I. This is your take."

I take the money, looking through it.  _There's at least five hundred dollars here_ _!_

"Here's your gun back." I reach into my waistband and pull the gun out, handing it back to him. He takes it and shoves it into his holster without a care in the world. 

"I'll go give this to Dutch then." He puts the rest of the money back in the bag and picks it up. I take that as my cue to leave. 

"Thank you for taking me with you, Arthur." I tell him, walking out of the tent.

"Lily," he calls, and I stop, turning to face him. He looks shy all of a sudden, hip cocked as he holds the bag on his shoulder with both hands. "I, uh, I never got to say thank you for what you did for me the other night. I was real tired and what you did felt real good. So, thank you." He reaches up to rub his chin, and I'm once more aware of the fact that his facial hair is gone. 

Feeling a brave streak, I step forward and place my hand on his face. I rub my thumb on his cheek, feeling the smooth skin there that's already beginning to grown stubble again. He watches me carefully, staring down at me with those green eyes of his. I feel his breaths come out in soft puffs through his parted lips, and god, are they beautiful lips. 

"Grow some facial hair and I might do it again." I send him a wink and turn my back to him, walking over to the tent I share with Miss Grimshaw. With this money I can pay Arthur back, get some more supplies and maybe even get my own tent. 

"He's still watchin' you." Tilly whispers to me, and I look over my shoulder to see Arthur standing in the same spot that I left him, watching me. I smile at him and throw a little wave. Tilly laughs. 

"Ooh, someone's got it bad." 

I roll my eyes, hitting her lightly on the shoulder before laughing and walking over to Pearson for some dinner. Was she talking about me or about Arthur? I don't know.

I shake my head. This whole thing is one-sided, and I know it. Arthur has bigger things to think about than me.

Right?


	8. Wrong Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More happy tears. I write this from my computer otherwise my author's notes would be full of heart emojis. Seeing how you guys actually answer these questions makes my entire year, and the stuff you all say is so nice! I'm so happy that you like Lily and that you're enjoying my story. For being such great readers I've made this chapter extra spicy, and we're getting closer to some big pieces of the plot. 
> 
> Question: which campsite did you like the most? I loved Clemens Point (which is why I'm writing about it now lmao). It was in such a nice location--plus it's when you get the boat. Gotta love boats.

A few days later I'm getting ready to go bathe when Sadie approaches me. I put my towel back down on the ground by my blanket and stand up, brushing my hands off on my pants. 

"Hi Sadie," I greet, looking at her curiously. 

She nods her head back at me. "I, uh, was wonderin' if you wanted to go to town with me for a little while. I need some help with some things and figured you'd be good to bring along." 

Now I'm interested. "Sure. Are we going by horse or by wagon?"

"Horse. I don't really need to carry anythin' back with me." She turns and walks over to her horse. 

When I first began riding horses so often, my thighs were trying to kill me. After doing it consistently and keeping up with regular practice lessons on Winston I slowly got used to it. The people here, though? Majority of them have horrible bowed legs. The only ones who don't are some of the women, which is basically only Tilly and Mary-Beth. 

I hop up on her horse behind her and we set out towards town. Most people weren't at camp right now. Arthur and Charles set out the day before to go somewhere, and Micah was with Pearson discussing something. Dutch was holed up in his tent with Molly, the two of them arguing loud enough for the whole camp to hear. The ladies were relaxing, basking in the brief reprieve of chores that Miss Grimshaw was giving them. 

"So what exactly is going on in town?" I ask. 

"We're gonna have a chat with some people, and I need you to do me a favor." She says. A favor? What could I possibly do for Sadie Adler?

"What kind of favor?"

"I need you to do your doctor thing." 

A doctor thing? Sounds odd, but okay. 

We ride into Rhodes and Sadie hitches her horse in front of a saloon. I jump off after her (also getting better at mounting and dismounting a horse--but don't tell Arthur that or he might stop helping me) and follow her up the steps. She pauses outside the window, looking in briefly before turning to me and taking a deep breath. 

"I don't know if you know how I came to be with the gang, but the O'Driscoll's killed my husband." I nod along, not telling her that I already know the sad story of her and her husband. "One of the men I'm looking for, I broke his hand when he invaded my house. I need you to see if you can spot him. I didn't see his face, just know that I hurt him real good."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"About two to three months ago."

I make a face. "His hand would be basically healed by then." 

"I also cut him up real good on his arm. That should help you to tell."

"Why can't you just point him out? And how do you even know he's in there?"

Sadie makes a noise in the back of her throat, sneering in at the saloon. "He'd recognize me. I want to make sure the bastard is in there before I shoot the place up. I've been goin' here for a while now and I thought I saw him come here a few times, same time."

I step back. "Sadie, you're not really going to do that are you?"

Sadie looks at me, narrowing her gaze slightly. "Tell you what, if you can get that piece of shit outside, I'll take care of it. You have to make sure it's the right guy, though. Right side, broken hand and sliced arm." 

She pats me on the back and starts pushing me through the doors. I resist a little, not quite ready to go in. 

"Wait! How am I supposed to talk to this guy? What does he look like?" 

"I don't know, flirt or somethin'. Use a little of your womanly charm that seems to work so well on the men in camp. He's tall, 'bout John's height and wears a heavy dark jacket. No beard, sick grin. Fucked up face. Hard to miss. Now go get him!" She shoves me through the door and I stumble in, gaining the attention of a fair amount of people in the saloon. I cough, trying to hide my embarrassment as I go up to the counter and order a whiskey. The bartender gives me a weird look, most likely judging my attire before I slip him a little more money and he finally obliges. 

I look around casually, trying not to seem too suspicious in my movements. There weren't that many people here at this time of day--it's only about two o'clock. There are a couple of guys sitting at the booths eating and drinking, and one game of poker going on. There are two other men at the counter with me, muttering to each other and drinking out of their tall glasses. It was easy to tell that they were O'Driscoll's. 

But was one of them Sadie's man? 

"You got a problem?" One of the men sneers at me, catching onto my staring. I blink, trying to reign in my nervousness. I take my shot and throw it back, swallowing it whole. The men watch me carefully, and I take this time to look at their faces.

The shorter one is bald and has a goatee, though there's a long scar across his eye. The other man, the one closest to me is taller and has a hat on. He has no facial hair and what looks like a shaved head. His nose is crooked, most likely from being broken so many times. My eyes trail from his face and down to his hands, but he's wearing a long-sleeved shirt and vest so I can't get a look at his arms. His hands look fine. 

Mustering up some courage, and reminding myself that this is for Sadie, I lean casually on one arm against the bar and look at the taller man. I look at him from head to toe, making him think that I'm checking him out. It must work because next thing I know he's nudging his friend and stepping a little closer towards me. His stench hits my nostrils, smelling like nothing but sweat and horse shit. 

The backdoor to the saloon opens and two men who could not have picked a  _worse_ time to be here walk through. 

Charles is the first one to see me, pausing in his steps and looking at me in confusion. Arthur nearly walks into his back and stops, about to ask Charles what his problem was when he looks up and also sees me. He looks between me and the two guys in front of me, and telling by the anger that crosses their faces they  _immediately_ get the wrong idea from what they see. 

_Oh god, please don't start anything. Just keep walking._  

I hope that somehow Sadie will see them from the front of the saloon and get their attention, but they're not looking anywhere but at me. And they're not happy. The two of them take a step towards me and I shake my head minutely, trying to tell them to  _stop_. They do pause in their steps, and I give them a pleading look to just go somewhere else. 

"Those guys botherin' ya?" The slimy man in front of me asks, pushing off the bar and looking at Charles and Arthur over the top of my head. I give my attention back to him and try to reign him in, going so far as to place my hand on his chest and lightly push him back. I pick up a flirtatious tone as I bat my eyelashes up at him. 

"No, but I'm sure a strong man like you could deal with him if he wanted to. They wouldn't stand a  _chance_." The man in front of me gives me a smug smile as I say those words, bolstering his ego. I take this chance to slide my hand from his chest and to his right arm, gliding my fingers over the cotton of his shirt to grasp his hand. I hold it with both of mine, lightly prodding the bones there in an examination. 

To him it would probably feel like someone woman just feeling him up, but little does he know that I'm checking to see if any of the bones feel out of place, if there is anything wrong with the structure of his hand. 

And there is. 

Just barely there, the connection between the metacarpal and proximal phalanges on his ring finger are slightly out of alignment. 

_Gotcha_. 

The man suddenly reaches forward with his other hand, grabbing me by the ass and pulling me close to his chest. I drop his hand in surprise, looking up at him without a clue on what to do. My first reaction would be to push this man off me and kick him where the sun don't shine, but I can't do that. Not when this man is Sadie's to hurt. 

Well, at least I can't do anything  _yet_. 

I ignore my discomfort and smile up at the man, dropping his hand and wrapping my arms around his waist. He is a big guy, and for a moment I wonder how on Earth Sadie is planning on doing anything to this guy, but then I remember that it's Sadie Adler that they're going to be dealing with. She'll skin them alive without getting a hair out of place. 

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more...private?" I lean up on my toes and whisper in his ear, feeling his hands on me tighten. I squash down the urge to wriggle out of his grasp and instead press a little closer, feeling his growing excitement against my hip. It disgusts me. 

"You mind if my friend here joins us?" He leers down at me, trying (and failing) to give me what I'm guessing is supposed to be a seductive smile. His shorter friend throws me a grin of his own, downing his drink before clearing his throat loudly. 

Maybe Sadie will let me have some fun with the friend here while she's occupied with the other one. 

"Sure," I purr, reaching over and handing him his unfinished glass of whiskey, "drink up now."

He takes the drink and winks at me before swallowing it. I step back slightly, taking his broken hand in mine and leading the both of them to the front doors. We pass Arthur and Charles, the two of them standing by a booth and watching us closely. The anger on Charles' face and the betrayal on Arthurs' forces me to look away from them and straight ahead. I desperately want to explain to them that nothing is going on but then what I'm doing for Sadie would be ruined. I'll just have to hope that they listen to me later on. 

We push through the doors and I lead them around the side of the building to an alley where I remember seeing Sadie head off towards. The shorter guy is chuckling to himself, and the man who's hand I'm currently holding is grasping me tightly, the excitement for what's about to happen showing in his movements. 

Once we're around the corner Sadie jumps out from behind a couple of barrels with a yell, latching onto the taller man's shoulders and wrapping her arms around his neck. He lets go of my hand instantly, trying to get a hold of Sadie's arms and try to pry her off. 

"What the hell?" The shorter man questions, his hand going to his gun holster without any hesitation. I step away from Sadie and her target and run at the other man, taking him off guard and just barreling into him. He lands on his back with a thud, myself falling on top of him in an uncoordinated fashion. I quickly scramble for his guns, succeeding in getting one out of the holster and tossing it to the side. When I go for his other one he grabs my hand, stopping me from pulling it off his body completely. 

He pushes me off him and I roll onto my side in the dirt. He gets to his feet, about to pull his gun out and shoot Sadie when I lunge forward onto my knees and wrap my arms around his waist, trying to pull him backwards. 

"Get off me, you bitch!" He growls, turning and hitting me upside the face with the handle of his gun. 

I go down fast, landing on my stomach with my face in the dirt. My world blurs while a raging pain flares up on my face, drawing a long groan from me. I feel water build up behind my eyelids as a ringing pierces through my ears. Is this what the people who come into my emergency room feel? I need to be nicer to them. 

A hand is grasping my shoulder roughly, turning me onto my back. I blink in the light, trying to see past the pain. My teeth feel like they don't fit in my mouth and I taste blood. It's not good. 

"You're that... that girl that Thomas was talkin' about!" The O'Driscoll on top of me says quietly, crouching down to inspect me closer. I cough, reaching a hand up to push the face of the O'Driscoll away from me. He merely bats my hand to the side before reaching down to grasp my face with his grimy fingers. I let out a hiss as he squeezes the tender flesh, baring my teeth at him. If my head weren't swimming so much I would try to claw his eyes out. 

He sneers at me, giving my body a once-over. "Colm has been lookin' for ya. Hasn't even met ya yet and he wants ya. You must be somethin' special." The man frowns at me in disgust. "I don't see it." 

Even though things are blurry I try my best to get this creep away from me. "Sadie!" I call, looking behind this guy to see if the stronger woman is available. I can vaguely make out two bodies tumbling with one another against the light of the sun but not clearly enough so that I can see who's winning. I'm on my own. 

Stupid here in front of me takes the hand that was grasping my face and wraps it around my throat, choking me slightly so that I can't get any more words out. I kick my legs, trying to buck him off but he just watches me, smiling cruelly as I thrash below him. 

"If you would just shut up this would go a lot smoother." He growls at me. 

"You fucker," I rasp with the little air I have left. The edges of my vision starts to turn black. I can't let this happen, I will  _not_ be taken by some backwoods O'Driscoll inbred. In one last burst of strength I place my boots on the man's chest and  _push_ , launching him off me and onto his back on the ground a few feet away. I take in a deep breath of air, coughing slightly as my lungs start getting an airflow again. I roll over onto my hands and knees, crawling away from the man even more and trying to get to the steps of the saloon. Maybe when I get inside someone will help me. 

And then I remember that Arthur and Charles are inside the saloon. 

Or at least I hope they still are. 

I clamber to the window, pulling myself up to the ledge so I can look in. Panting, I look around and see Arthur and Charles having a heated discussion over by a stairwell. Their backs are to me as they speak animatedly. Who knows what they're talking about. 

I take in a deep breath of air, feeling my chest burn with the effort. "Arthur!" I yell, smacking my hand against the glass. The two of them whirl around, and I see Arthur's face go through a flurry of emotions in a few seconds: anger, confusion, concern, and then anger again. I go to tell them that Sadie needs help when something gets a hold of my ankle and I'm pulled to the ground again. I hit the planks of wood with a thud, my head smacking off the ground and once more bringing back the dizziness. A nauseous feeling builds up in my stomach, and if this man doesn't stop soon then I'm going to vomit. 

The man drags me on my stomach back down the steps that I crawled up, pulling me around the corner of the building and back into the alley. I weakly try to get a grasp on something to stop him but I have no strength in my body to fight back at this point. 

God, I feel so  _weak_. 

The man drags me closer to where the other guy is pinning Sadie to the wall of the next building, a knife held to her throat. She's glaring at the man, baring her teeth and trying to break out of his grasp. 

"Lily!" She calls when she sees me, desperately trying to fight off the bigger man and get to me. I'm no help. My body hurts, and my head is aching. It's hard to tell right now but I could have a possible minor concussion, if not a serious migraine. 

"This here's the bitch that Colm wanted brought to him." Shorty explains to the other guy. He drops my leg in the dirt, reaching down and grabbing the collar of my shirt to haul me up to my feet. He pushes me against the wall beside Sadie, bringing his face close to mine and smelling my neck deeply.

"W-why does he want me?" I ask weakly, turning my head in disgust. Sadie looks positively livid. 

"Don't know. Just know that he  _does_." He brings a hand up my side, brushing over the side of my breast and continuing further north to wrap around my throat like he did before. I place my hands on his, trying to peel him off of me. "Though it's not hard to see why anyone would want somethin' like you."

I'm not entirely sure what happens first. If it's the whizzing of a knife flying through the air or the man's blood spraying across my face. I close my eyes instinctively, turning away from the spray and trying to avoid as much of it as possible. The body falls to the ground in a heap and the other man steps back with a shout. Sadie wraps her arms around my waist as my knees buckle beneath me and we both go to the ground. 

The other man pulls out a gun and turns towards the alley, about to fire on whoever it was that threw the knife but Sadie is quicker, pulling her own blade out and swiping it across his throat. He makes a gurgling noise, trying to stop the blood from falling out of his body. He falls backwards, bleeding down the front of his chest and onto the ground below. 

"Took you two long enough." Sadie calls over to where Arthur and Charles enter the alley, the both of them looking between us and the two bodies. 

"Anyone wanna explain what the hell just happened?" Arthur asks, his voice quiet so as to not draw attention but loud enough to show his irritation. He crouches down in front of Sadie and I, frowning at me. I reach a hand up to my face, wiping a hand across it and watching as it comes away bloody. Great. 

"That man," Sadie glares at the man she just killed while pulling out a handkerchief for my face, "was one of the men who killed my husband. Lily here was helpin' me to take care of him but it didn't go as planned. I wasn't expectin' him to have a friend."  

"Me neither," I mutter, taking the cloth from her and holding it to my nose. I could feel the blood running down to my chin, but I don't think it's broken. 

A soft touch on my chin makes me look up at Arthur. He's tilting my head this way and that with his finger and thumb, inspecting my face. I squint at him, hating how my vision is still slightly blurry. I'm afraid to look in a mirror, to see the damage that the damn O'Driscoll did. 

"Well, you'll live." Arthur finally says after staring at my face for a while. "We should probably get you ladies back to camp." 

"I'll take care of the bodies." Charles offers, moving forward to throw one of the dead men over his shoulder. "Dutch doesn't want us stirring up trouble in town so we need to make sure that nobody sees this." He walks around the back of the building towards the pig pens. 

I push off the wall behind me to stand back to my feet, stumbling slightly as my head swims. Arthur grabs my arm, getting close to my face again and looking me in the eye. 

"What's wrong with ya?"

I give him an 'are you serious' look, taking the cloth off my face for a moment to let him see all the blood and cuts I'm currently sporting. "I got hit in the face with a gun and fought a man. What's wrong with you?"

The frown he's sporting deepens as he looks at me. "The bastard hit you in the face with his gun?" 

I roll my eyes. "It's not the first time they hit me."

Arthur growls in the back of his throat. "But I'll make sure it was the last."

"Arthur, I'm fine." I place my hand on his arm, trying to get some of the fire out of his eyes. It's a little scary, to say the least. 

He melts a little under my touch, looking down at my hand on him before meeting my gaze again. His lips are pulled down in a frown, and I know he's just replaying that man hitting me over in his mind.

"I should've been here. I thought you was with them." 

I let out a laugh that sounds more like a small sob. "I would never be with them. I'm with you."

He stands a little straighter, puffing his chest out slightly as he peers down at me. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but decides against it, shaking his head minutely and looking to the side. There's a brief silence before he faces me, a determined look in his eyes. He reaches forward and takes my arm, throwing it over his shoulder while wrapping his other arm around my waist and pulling me close. 

"I can walk fine!" 

"No ya can't, you couldn't hit the broadside of a barn right now if I asked ya to, let alone walk." I shut my mouth, silently fuming at being treated like a child. We move towards his horse and I secretly admire the way Arthur feels pressed against me, the way his body warms me up as his side touches mine. 

We go to Winston and he doesn't even let me mount the horse on my own, instead placing his hands on my hips and lifting me into the saddle. I go to move back when he stops me, sliding on behind me instead. 

"I don't trust ya not to fall off, so you're ridin' in front." He explains, reaching his arms around me and grabbing hold of the reigns. He scoots close to the point of my back resting fully against his chest. I feel his breaths tickle my neck and the soothing motion of his breathing as his chest rises and falls. It lulls me into a sense of security and I close my eyes, relaxing in this embrace that he has me in and letting my weight rest against him fully. 

"We'll be back real soon," he says quietly, having Winston walk towards camp. Arthur smells good, like wood and gun oil. For someone who lives in the wilderness and does a lot of work he usually smells pretty decent, unlike most men in this time period. It's nice. 

Somewhere along the journey when I'm halfway out of consciousness I feel Arthur put the reigns in one hand while the other wraps around my stomach, holding me tightly against him. I press further into his hold and let out a sigh, his chuckle rumbling through his chest. 

"Be quiet, cowboy. You're comfortable right now." 

Another small laugh. "Just go to sleep, darlin'. I've got ya."

And so I do. 


	9. Blessed are the Peacemakers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are nothing short of incredible. I usually write these chapters at night so when I wake up and see all the comments and likes it's like Christmas all over again! I seriously appreciate everything that you all say to me. I can't express that enough. This chapter is saucy and I plan for the next one to be even spicier so stay tuned!
> 
> ALSO you guys seemed to really enjoy Horseshoe Overlook so maybe I'll write it into the story later on...? Who knows.
> 
> Question: Who would you like to see Lily interact with more? Someone in the camp or someone from the towns? If you guys want to see something I might just write it into the story!

I'm awoken by a soft shaking of my shoulder. I blink my eyes open wearily, noting that we're back at Clemens Point. Winston stomps his hooves beneath me, letting out an impatient snort to say 'get off me already'. 

"Can ya get down by yourself?" Arthur says and I suddenly remember that he's behind me. I stiffen and sit up, leaning away and out of his grasp. He unwinds his hand from my waist and I feel embarrassed. I was probably a pain to watch on the ride back. 

I don't say anything and just nod my head at him. I lean forward, using Winston's long neck to help balance myself as I swing my leg over and slide down to the ground. I pat the horse in thanks and step back, watching Arthur follow suit. Once his boots land on the ground beside mine he ties the reigns to the post and lets Winston drink from the water basin below him. Arthur faces me, clenching his jaw as he gets a good look before placing his hand on my back and leading me into camp. I follow him, the warmth of his touch a comfort to me. 

"Mary-Beth," Arthur calls. I see the woman herself stick her head out of her tent. She looks confused but then I watch as she lifts her hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. 

"Lily!" She says in shock. She gathers her skirts in her hands and moves quickly towards us with what looks like a million questions running through her head. 

I hold up my hands before she can start, halting her movements just a few feet from Arthur and me. "I'm fine, really. I just want to take a bath and maybe get some sleep. My face hurts like a bitch and this camp doesn't have any painkillers besides alcohol, so sleep is the best I can do right now." 

Mary-Beth nods at me, already moving to get my bathing stuff from my tent. I watch her walk away with a sigh, rubbing my uninjured eye with my hand. Arthur removes his hand from my back and I open my eyes to see him take his hat off. He holds it tightly in his hands against his stomach, fumbling with the rim of it with something akin to nervousness. 

"Are you okay, Arthur?" I frown up at him. 

Arthur lets out a breath through his nose, eyes staring at the ground for a few moments before he takes in a deep breath and looks at me. "I need ta apologize for what happened back there."

Now I'm confused. "What on  _earth_  do you have to apologize for?"

"I, well, I didn't know what to think when I saw you there with them O'Driscoll's. I should've known better than to assume that you was with 'em." 

"Oh," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I don't blame Arthur for assuming that I was with them, considering how I acted in the saloon. But, I don't know, the thought that Arthur didn't quite trust me burns in the back of my mind. I try not to let it bother me too much because if I was in his place I probably would've thought the same thing. "It's fine, Arthur. I haven't known you people for very long--you're allowed to have doubts."

Arthur frowns as he studies my face. "I know better now. I won't doubt you again, Lily." He steps forward, reaching out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. My mouth falls open slightly at the gesture, surprised by his confidence. He smiles gently at me, his fingers brushing lightly across the side of my cheek. I suck in a breath when he accidentally touches a cut, but I push the discomfort to the back of my mind. 

Arthur and I are standing very close, less than a foot between us. I feel my breath hitch as his eyes drift lower, a hooded look overcoming his face. He parts his lips slightly, and I'm once more drawn to them. I've said it once, and I'll say it again: Arthur Morgan is a  _very_  attractive man. 

He clears his throat suddenly, taking a step away from me. Cold and unforgiving disappointment runs through me as embarrassment floods my cheeks. 

I can't believe I actually thought something was going to happen there. Of course nothing was going to happen. This is Arthur Morgan, outlaw of a fucking  _video game_ , and I'm Lily Edwards, a woman out of time. He probably sees me as nothing more than a nuisance, someone who is constantly getting in trouble and won't get out of his hair. God, I'm so  _stupid_. 

"I, uh, Dutch wanted ta talk to me. I should go do that." He says, stumbling over his words. I turn my back to him so he doesn't see the shame on my face. 

"Okay." I choke out, holding my arms tighter to myself and walking away. I don't look back, not wanting to know what he's doing. If he's watching me or if he just completely ignored me and went to Dutch. I couldn't take it right now if I wanted to. 

I nearly bump into Mary-Beth in my haste to get away. She takes one look at my face and instantly knows something is wrong. Without saying a word she stuffs my bundle of things under one arm and wraps the other around me, pulling me close and leading me away to the wash area. We walk along the shoreline until we're far enough away that no one can see. Mary-Beth goes over to the large metal bin and gets a fire going, getting ready to heat the water up for a bath. 

I'm not a bashful person--at least, not around certain people. I've seen all types of bodies while working in the ER, and I've learned to not be phased by it anymore. I've gotten close enough with the women in the camp that I don't mind being naked in front of them. So when Mary-Beth starts to help my get out of my clothes I just let her. I wince when the removal of my shirt causes some aches from the larger bruises the flare with pain, but other than that I'm fine. She helps me ease down into the bucket of hot water and I nearly let out a groan at how nice it feels. When she brings out a cloth and starts carefully wiping at the wounds I got earlier I see the disappointment on her face. 

"I was sure he was gonna kiss ya." She mutters. I look at her in shock. 

"Mary-Beth!" I exclaim, reaching up to grab her hand and pull it away from my face. She pouts at me, pushing her sleeves further up her arms and dipping the cloth back in the water. 

"What?" She wrings out the rag, lightly pushing my hand away before going back to dabbing at the wounds. I hiss when it stings, closing my eyes as they begin to water. "Sorry. It's not that bad--I promise. A few days and you'll be right as rain." 

"You and Tilly need to stop trying to make romance out of everything you see." 

"That's impossible, Lily." Mary-Beth laughs softly. She even has a pretty laugh. "I  _write_  romance. I have to see it in everything otherwise I'd never get a word on the page."

I scoff, leaning back and resting my arms on the rim of the tub. I know I said I missed washing machines, but have I also mentioned showers? I've never appreciated something as much as I have while living here. If I ever get back I'm going to shower until I run out of hot water. I don't care about the bill. 

_If I get back_. I close my eyes, that same homesickness that I've felt before washing over me. Will I ever get home? Will I be forced to live the rest of my life in this universe that doesn't technically exist? I keep forgetting more and more things from my real life and it's scaring me. I can barely remember the name of the hospital I work at--I have to think really hard to remember Bishop Hospital--which is  _awful_  because that's where all my friends are. The people who are like my second family. And I'm just here forgetting about them and acting like they've never existed. I seal my eyes shut to hold back the tears that threaten to flow. Today has been a... rough day to say the least.

"Oh, hon," Mary-Beth says quietly as she begins to take my hair out of its braid. "Don't worry about Arthur--he's just bein' thick. Tilly and I'll talk some sense into him."

"No, no." I say, sniffling slightly as she begins to wash my hair for me. This woman would be the perfect spouse--hell, I might take her for my own if she keeps massaging my head like that. "It's not Arthur. It's not him. I just really miss home right now." 

"I'm sorry to hear that, sweetie." She lets out a sigh. "But I was serious about the Arthur thing--that man likes you. It's plain to see. Most everyone in the camp can tell."

"Oh yeah?" I peek one eye open at her. "Then why does he do things like that? I'm not saying that I also like him, but if Arthur truly liked someone I feel like he wouldn't be afraid to show it."

"Arthur is a pretty shy man, actually. Reserved, holds his cards real close to his chest." Mary-Beth explains. "He's probably afraid you don't like him back." 

I let out a sigh of frustration. "I... Arthur is a good man. A great man. He's also a very  _busy_  one. He doesn't have time for someone like me--besides, I'm nothing special. I do nothing but get in peoples' ways."

Mary-Beth stops what she's doing and frowns at me. "You take that back, Lily Edwards. You have been nothing short of a blessing since you arrived at this camp. You're a breath of fresh air that has been needed since the whole Blackwater business occurred."

"Whatever you say." 

Mary-Beth hums, her thin fingers scratching my scalp lightly. It's like  _heaven_. 

"You know, if you decide to not be a writer you should become a massage therapist." 

"A what?" 

I tilt my head backwards to look at her upside down. "A massage therapist. You get paid to do exactly what you're going right now." 

"Then should I expect you to pay me after we're done?"

"I feel like you'd charge me an arm and a leg."

"A woman's gotta make a livin'." 

We both laugh at that, the sad aura that was surrounding us melting away. I let out a sigh, relaxing into her touch and letting her work her magic. She tells me about what happened at camp while we were gone, how Jack and Hosea were practicing his reading, Molly and Miss Grimshaw were trying to get Pearson to add some flavoring to his stew, and how Micah was apparently arguing with Dutch about something. 

For some reason that last part tugs at my memory, but I don't know why. Today has been a bad day--maybe I'm just paranoid because it involves Micah. Everything is probably fine and I'm just trying to find a problem with something else. 

She begins to rinse my hair and I get the towel ready for me to step into. The water has gone cold by the time we're done and I'm ready to be back in warm clothes again and then take that nap that I've been thinking of since Arthur and I got back to camp. Once I'm done bathing I step out, drying off as quickly as possible and putting on the shirt and pants that she grabbed for me. I feel better already now that I've washed that man's touch off my body, but I still need to know how bad my face is. Maybe Molly will let me borrow her pocket mirror later on so I can take a look. 

Mary-Beth and I pick up our belongings and make our way back to camp. I notice that Micah, Pearson, Arthur and Dutch are all inside the latter's tent, arguing loudly about something. Hosea smiles tightly at Mary-Beth and I before also slipping into where the action is happening. 

Mary-Beth just shrugs at me, not sure what to say herself. I thank her and make my way over to my tent, stopping when someone calls my name. I look over my shoulder and see Sadie stepping out of her own tent and walking towards me. I smile at her and notice that she's also cleaned up since the fight we got into. 

"I never really thanked ya for helpin' me back there. And I'm sorry that you got hurt. That wasn't supposed to happen." Sadie's words are genuine but I can tell that she's not really used to doing things like this. I appreciate the effort and place my hand on her arm reassuringly. 

"I would do it again if it meant helping you get justice for your husband." I look at her seriously. She looks surprised, I can tell. She was probably expecting me to run and hide after that. "I may not be the best one to have on your team in a fight, but if I can help in some way then I'll be there." 

She nods at me and it almost looks like her eyes are shining with something. "Thank you, Lily." 

I smile again and let her go, leaving and walking over to my bedroll. Next thing I need to buy at town? Not a horse, no, a  _tent_. I appreciate Miss Grimshaw letting me stay with her but I need my privacy. I throw my dirty clothes to the side so that I can wash them later and lay down on my side, pulling a blanket up to my shoulders and closing my eyes. I'll feel better if I just sleep for a little bit, I know it. 

* * *

I awake hours later and the first thing I see is that the sun has set. It's almost completely dark out. Even though that nap I took was refreshing I know deep down that I'll most likely have trouble going back to sleep tonight. I push my blanket away and stand up, hearing my bones pop in the process. I should start building my strength up somehow. Sure, moving hay bales everyday and doing the other chores around here have certainly helped me to stay fit, but I need to get stronger. I need to make sure I never feel that weak again. 

I go over to the campfire where Sean is helping himself to a bowl of stew. I pick up my own dish, waiting patiently for him to finish so that I can eat. He pauses with the ladle in his hand, looking up at me. His mouth quickly curls up in a grin as one eyebrow raises in question. 

"Get in a bit of a tussle there?" Sean's accent is thick and I won't lie when I say that I enjoy listening to him talk. 

I roll my eyes, letting out a short laugh at his teasing tone. "Something like that. Would you hurry up? Some of us have hardly eaten today."

"Not my fault that you decided to sleep the day away." 

I take the ladle out of his hand and bump him aside with my hip. "You would too if you had been me."

"If I were you I would go up to a certain handsome Irish man and--"

"Sean!" Karen's voice calls, and I look over to see her glaring at him with her hands on her hips. I laugh as Sean's cocky smile leaves his face. 

"Aw, I was only teasin'!" Sean calls, following after her as Karen walks away with a shake of her head. I hear him trying to defend himself for a few more minutes before they get out of ear shot. 

I settle down on a log by the fire with my stew, slowly lifting the food to my mouth to lightly blow on it before eating it. Pearson is getting better with his cooking, I'll admit. At first the food I ate was nothing but tasteless goop, but now that Charles and Arthur are bringing in more provisions there's a wider variety to choose from. In fact, that might be a good place for me to start working on. I can do something as simple as hunting while they're out doing the... outlaw stuff. 

"-I'm telling you, I have a plan." Dutch draws my attention as he storms out of his tent, Hosea following closely behind. "You have to trust me on this."

"Arthur hasn't been seen for hours!" Hosea argues, and my heart stops. "You know they have him!"

"We can't be sure of that!"

I stand up, dropping my bowl and walking over to the two men quickly. Micah isn't far behind them, Pearson also standing alongside Dutch and wringing his hands together nervously. Micah catches sight of me and sneers in my direction. 

"What happened to you? Someone finally put you in your place?" 

I ignore Micah's comments and walk right up to Dutch. He stops from saying the words that were about to come out of his mouth, instead looking down at me with concern.

"Lily? Are you okay?" 

I wave a hand at him. "I'm fine. Where's Arthur?"

Dutch's jaw clenches as he looks at Hosea. The shorter man frowns at me. "We don't know."

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?"

"It means what he said, little girl. Why don't you go do something useful and stay out of this." Micah snarls. "Let the big boys alone." 

I spare one glare in his direction before turning back to Hosea and Dutch. "What happened?"

Hosea sighs. "Arthur, Dutch and Micah went to talk with Colm O'Driscoll." 

Why does that make me fill with dread? I feel like it's something important but it's another one of those things that has evaded me--I can't remember.

"It didn't go well." Dutch growls, his lip curling with disgust. 

"Arthur was told to take point and watch from afar in case the meeting went south. He hasn't been seen since. It's been a few hours."

"How long?" 

Dutch and Hosea look at one another. I didn't sleep for  _that_  long, did I?

"How long!" I ask again, frustration bleeding into my voice.

"About four hours ago."

I stare at the four of them. "Four hours? He went with you to see  _Colm O'Driscoll_ , hasn't been seen or heard from in four hours, and you haven't gone out looking for him yet?" I direct the question at Dutch who stares back at me. I can tell he's not happy that I'm questioning his methods, but I don't care. Arthur is out there, and I  _know_  he's in trouble. 

But what is it and why can't I remember?

"I have a plan," Dutch holds his hands out in a calming gesture, but I feel anything but calm right now.

Then suddenly, it comes back to me. 

Not a whole lot--not everything that I've been forgetting for the past month and half, but this  _one thing_  comes back into my brain so fast that it feels like I was hit upside the head with a baseball bat. I stagger backwards from it, one hand grabbing a fistful of hair as I try to stop myself from falling to the ground. 

"Oh, no." I say quietly. "No, no, no no no no..." I mutter, looking around wildly for  _something_  before finally settling on Dutch. 

"What?" He asks.

"The O'Driscoll's  _do_  have Arthur. We have to go get him. They're torturing him!" 

Micah steps forward, watching me cautiously. "How the hell would you know that?" 

Shit. How am I supposed to explain to them that I know this? They would never believe me, and if I don't come up with something soon then they're going to get the wrong idea. 

"I just... it's a feeling I have." 

Dutch peers down at me. "You have a  _feeling_  that they're torturing Arthur?"

Even to me it sounds ridiculous. "You have to trust me." 

"We don't have to do nothin'!" Micah shouts. 

"Arthur could be dying out there!" My voice raises, drawing the attention of the other members of camp. They stop what they're doing to watch the scene unfold. 

"Lily, I know you're worried--" 

I let out a huff of frustration, cutting Dutch off. "Dutch, listen to me. We need to go out there and look for him."

"We ain't even sure they have him!" Micah butts in, stepping in front of Dutch to block me out of his line of view. "She's just some crazy bitch, Dutch. Don't listen to her."

"Micah, you'll be wise not to call her that again." Dutch frowns at Micah. I appreciate that he's sticking up for me but now is not the time for this. 

"If you won't help me, I'll go out myself." I turn and start walking towards the horses. 

"You don't have any weapons!" Micah calls after me. "Or a horse! You're damn well not taking mine!"

"She can take mine." Sadie offers, stepping out of Karen's tent and taking her gun belt off. "Be careful out there--I want my horse back."

I accept the belt carefully and slip it on, making sure the guns are secured before walking over to her horse. 

"Lily, wait!" Dutch calls out to try to stop me.

I quickly mount the Morgan, nodding my thanks to Sadie before kicking the horse's side and taking off down the path away from camp. I don't think I'll ever be more thankful for those riding lessons that Arthur gave me than I am right now. 

I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner. This was something that surprised me in the game--when Dutch Micah actually convinced Dutch to try to fix things with Colm. It was easy to tell that Dutch wasn't really happy with the thought of it but at least he  _tried_. I don't know what it is that Colm said, but whatever happened didn't end well. It was all a set up as Arthur was ambushed by Colm's men and kidnapped. With a sick feeling in my stomach I also remember that they shot Arthur in the shoulder and took him to some camp where he was strung up by his ankles. 

And just a few hours ago I was upset with this man. 

I should've warned him. I should've  _remembered_. When--not if, but when--I find Arthur I'm going to have a long talk with him. Figure some things out. 

About ten minutes after leaving camp I realize that I don't know  _where_  Arthur is. The location was never really revealed because events were told in spurts. I remember seeing a river and a few bridges. That means it's somewhere near a train track in the mountains. Pulling out Sadie's map I strain my eyes to find something in the darkness. Once I decide on a spot I urge the Morgan in that direction.

* * *

 

I ride for probably a good hour before finally stopping the horse so that I can try to figure out where I am. I don't know if I'm any closer to where Arthur is or if I rode off in the complete opposite direction of where he's being held. Off in the distance a little ways I see the scaffolding of a bridge between two cliffs. It looks vaguely familiar, if not a little different in person but I feel as though I'm going in the right direction. Sadie's horse carries me carefully over the large stones beneath me. I let the horse stop at a small stream for a moment to get a drink of water before we walk over to the underside of the bridge. I'm about to start up the hill when there's a shape that appears at the top. I quickly get the horse to walk around to the side of one of the cliffs and into an area that's not in the moonlight. I slide off the horse quietly, taking out one of Sadie's pistols and holding it tightly between my two hands. I crouch down behind a boulder, waiting for the person to pass. It's nearly one in the morning--this isn't just some normal traveler. 

I hear the horse moving closer, the heavy steps as it walks carefully down the slope. I peer around the edge of the boulder as the animal and rider walks out into the light. A brief wave of confusion washes over me as I notice that the rider is completely slumped over in the saddle. 

Then I see the white marking on the horse's forehead as it gets closer and the rider's face becomes clearer. 

"Arthur," I gasp, scrambling out from my crouched position and moving quickly towards the man. Winston spooks, stomping his hooves and moving quickly away from me. 

"Winston!" I calm, putting the gun away and holding my hands out. The horse pauses, its ears flicking in my direction on top of its head. I make shushing noises, calming the animal down while carefully approaching it. The last thing I need right now is for him to get spooked and take off with an unconscious Arthur on his back. 

Once I get close enough I grab a hold of Winston's reigns, still loosely being held in one of Arthur's curled hands. I pet the horse with soothing strokes until I'm sure he's not going run off. I move to his back and to Arthur's side, my mouth falling open in silent horror as I take in his limp form. They stripped him down to nothing but his long john's. Somehow he must have managed to get his ammo belt back, but there's nothing else. He's not even wearing socks. 

"Oh, Arthur," I cry quietly. A few tears fall out of my eyes without my permission. I don't cry. I never cry when people in worse conditions than this come into my emergency room. "I should've warned you. I should have  _warned_  you." 

Arthur doesn't move or acknowledge that he heard me. I rush back over to Sadie's horse and grab the reigns, tugging him forward and over to Winston's side. He should follow us but I'm going to tie him to Winston's bridle just in case. 

A sudden thud and a long groan grabs my attention. I drop what I'm holding and rush over to Arthur who has currently fallen out of his saddle and onto the rocks below. I fall by his side, ignoring the rocks that stab my legs beneath me. Arthur grimaces, coughing as he grabs his chest with his right hand. I suck in a deep breath as I see the gunshot wound on his left shoulder. 

"Arthur, listen to me," I say gently, cupping his face with both my hands. He stops coughing and pants, opening his eyes slightly and looking up at me. His face is warm, which is both a good and bad sign. It means he's alive--but it also means that he could have a fever. I notice in the back of my mind that he's growing facial hair again and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with what I told him.

"'re you an angel?" He asks weakly, his words muffled.

I can't help but let out a short laugh. "I'm the farthest thing from an angel, Arthur Morgan."

"...Lily?" 

I nod, though I'm not sure he really sees it. "That's right, it's me. Lily."

"Thank god." He coughs, lurching off the ground as a terrible cough rips through him. "My angel has come."

I soften at his words for a moment before turning serious once again. Arthur isn't in a good position right now and he needs serious help as soon as possible. "We need to get you back to camp, but I need your help. You need to stand up so I can get you back on Winston."

"Winston..." Arthur murmurs, eyes drifting away from me and over to the steed that he just fell off of. "Winston's a good horse." 

"That he is," I agree and shuffle around so that I can get his right arm over my shoulders. I push up, telling him to stand with me. He does so slowly, grunting and groaning the whole way but he eventually is standing on his feet. He's nearly bent over in half, his other arm wrapped protectively around his stomach. 

"Get up in the saddle," I order him, and after a few more minutes of struggling he's finally in the saddle, almost in the same position that I found him in. 

I go back over and finish tying Sadie's horse to Winston before climbing onto Winston's saddle in front of Arthur. "I can't ride behind you because you're too big around, Arthur. You'll have to give me your arms and hold on tight."

"You callin' me fat?" Arthur apparently has the strength to sound offended. I ignore him and take his left arm and pulling it around my waist before tugging his right over my shoulder to hold close to my chest with one hand. I pick up Winston's reigns with the other and we set off back towards camp. Arthur weighs heavily on my back, his head resting against my neck. I hear him let out pained sounds every once in a while, my heart tugging with each one that he makes. 

"Don't worry, Arthur. I've got you. When we get back to camp I'll fix you up."

"Course you will," he mumbles, "you're my doctor."

I swallow past the thickness in my throat as I feel him fall unconscious against me. I hold onto him tighter to make sure he won't fall off again. 

"I'm your doctor."


	10. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves for more fluff in this chapter! I read who you all want to see more interactions with and I promise that in the next chapter I'll get started on that--a few things just needed to happen first *wink wink*. Your outpouring of love once more renders me speechless. Every time I see something I just get this big grin on my face and confuse my family endlessly lmao. Love you guys!
> 
> Question: What would you like the name of Lily's horse to be? I might just use one of your suggestions!

For most of the journey back Arthur is out of it. Every once in a while he'll wake up and grumble something about how 'it was all a setup' and then he's out again. It takes almost twice as long to get back as it did for me to find him in the first place. I think of just stopping and setting up a camp somewhere so that I can do something to ease his pain, but then I realize that we don't really have any supplies for that sort of thing on us, and the horses don't either. 

There isn't anyone on watch when we finally ride into camp. Arthur wakes up, groaning and clutching his side with a grimace. I slide down, untying Sadie's horse and letting it roam free when Arthur decides to fall onto the ground again. 

"Arthur!" I shout, running around to the other side of the horse and kneeling by his side. "Dutch! Miss Grimshaw!" I call out, asking for someone to come and help me. 

"Arthur?" Mary-Beth appears at my side first, hands shaking as she reaches down to cup Arthur's face. 

"My boy," Dutch calls, running over to us and bending over to look at the man on the ground. 

"I told ya it was a setup, Dutch..." Arthur groans, his breaths wheezy in his chest as he struggles for air. 

"My dear boy, what?" Dutch asks, leaning down beside me. 

"They got me..." He coughs, covering his mouth with his hand as he does so. He pulls it away and I can see dark spots on his skin. I place my hands under his head and gently lift it until he's resting on my legs instead of the ground. "But I got away."

"Yeah, that you did." Dutch murmurs, placing his hands on top of Arthur's head in a calming fashion. Arthur closes his eyes, breathing heavily. "Miss Grimshaw! Reverend Swanson! Lily, we need your skills."

I nod, not looking away from Arthur's pained face. 

A growl builds in Arthur's chest before ripping out of his mouth. "They was gonna set the law on us!" 

"Of course he was," Dutch agrees, moving to put his arms under Arthur's and lift his top half off the ground. Pearson runs over, standing behind us without a clue as to what to do. 

"I-I'm sorry, Arthur." Pearson gets out, bouncing back and forth between his feet. 

"It's a bit late for apologies," Dutch yells at Pearson, frowning at him. 

"Let's get him to his bed," I order, feeling that calm and strong sensation overtake me that I usually get when walking into my hospital. "I'm going to need cloth, clean water, rags, the purest alcohol you can find, some sewing kits and some disinfected knives. Run them over a flame to kill any germs on them." 

"You heard the lady," Dutch calls, and together he and I heft Arthur to his feet, his arm over Dutch's shoulders and my arm wrapped around the man's waist. We stumble across camp to his tent and I gingerly help him lay down on his cot, making sure his head is on his pillow before I turn to address everyone else. 

"Miss Grimshaw, I'm going to need your help." She nods, moving to collect the supplies that I listed earlier. "Everyone else--get out. You're going to be in my way."

They all scatter, leaving me alone to focus on Arthur. Except for Dutch and Micah. 

"My poor Arthur," Dutch sighs, and goes to step forward when I get in his path and stop him from coming inside the tent. 

"This includes you, Mr. Van Der Linde." I frown at him, still remembering my anger I felt at him refusing to help me go and find Arthur to begin with. "And  _especially_ you, Micah."

Micah goes to step towards me but Dutch holds his arm out, halting him. "Let's leave Miss Edwards to it, Micah." Dutch turns and leaves but Micah stays one more second to spit on the ground in front of me. When he turns his back I grab the closest thing I can reach, which happens to be a tin of cigars on Arthur's desk, and hurl it at the back of his head. 

Micah lets out a shout, holding the sore spot as he whirls around with a snarl on his face. He goes to step forward, a fire blazing in his eyes. 

"Micah!" Dutch calls, and like a dog at heel he stops and stomps away after the man. I smirk at his retreating form, knowing I won that battle.

I close the flap to the tent to give us some privacy. I go over to the desk by Arthur's bed, opening the drawers and rummaging through them to find what it is that I'm looking for. Once I spot it I grab it and shut the drawers, turning to sit on the side of the bed and wrap my hand gently around Arthur's head. His eyes blink open blearily as I lift him up a little bit and press the bottle of whiskey to his mouth. 

"I need you to drink this because what I'm going to do won't feel good." I nod encouragingly at him. He doesn't say anything but puts his lips on the bottle as I tip it back. he takes a few swallows before turning his head to the side and coughing. 

"Damn, that's strong." He says quietly as I lay him back down on his pillow. 

"Better for you that way." I cork the bottle and put it on the desk, beginning my routine of checking for any internal injuries. My examination is going to be heavily limited since I don't have the equipment that I normally do, but I'll have to try my best. 

II begin unbuttoning his long john's starting at the neck and eyeing the bullet wound on his shoulder cautiously. Arthur moans as I peel the cloth away from the area and down his shoulder. I look at it closer and see that it's...burned? 

"Arthur, what did you do to your arm?" I lightly brush my thumb against the charred edges of the wound and feel him tense beneath me. 

A sharp hiss escapes through his teeth as he tries to twist away from my touch. I frown, taking my hand back and beginning to unbutton the rest of his long john's. When I get them undone and start tugging them down he grabs my wrist, halting my movements. 

"Y-you don't need to go all the way."

I give him a stern look. "Arthur Morgan, I'm going all the way." I shake his hand off and get a blanket out of his chest, shaking it open and laying it down across his hips. "You can have this, but I need you to have your clothes off."

"I ain't a pretty thing ta look at," Arthur argues, and I can see his Adam's apple bob up and down nervously. I'm once more reminded of the fact that Arthur is a man who loathes himself. I wish I knew more on  _why_ he does, but for now I'll just have to try to convince him otherwise. 

"Believe me when I tell you that you're one of the prettiest things I've ever seen." I say lightly, not looking at him as I reach under the blanket to grab the pants and tug. He lifts them slightly to help me and holds the blanket down to make sure it doesn't slip. Once the long john's are out I ball them up and toss them on top of the chest. They're most likely going to get thrown out later on. 

"You're just sayin' that 'cuz I got shot." 

I snort, looking up as Miss Grimshaw enters the tent with a bowl of water that's steaming and a basket with the other things I asked for. 

"Mr. Morgan," Miss Grimshaw greets, placing the objects on the table. Arthur lifts his hand off the bed a few inches in reply. She grabs a chair that was sitting outside the tent and brings it inside, placing it by the bed.

"He needs to be cleaned before I can start to work on that shoulder wound," I tell her, unbuttoning the cuffs on my sleeves and pushing them up to my elbows before they can get in the way. "Will you go find something that's clean enough that I can wrap his collar bone with when I'm done?" She nods and leaves the two of us alone again. 

I pick up the wash rag and dip it in the hot water, wringing it out before pulling the chair up to Arthur's side and sitting down. His eyes are closed as he tries to relax. There are some small cuts on his face and a few areas that I know are going to bruise. There are similar injuries across his chest and on his arms, but the worst one I can see is his shoulder. 

"Did you take care of this yourself?" I ask, placing the rag on his forehead first, wiping away the blood and dirt that had dried there. He opens his eyes, staring at me deeply. The alcohol seems to be starting to take affect since I can see how hazy he's starting to look. 

"Sure did--pulled the bullet out and cauterized the wound."

I frown. "Let's hope you don't get an infection from that." 

"You'll be here to take care of me." He leans back and closes his eyes, breathing out through his mouth. My heart skips a beat. 

I work my way down the side of his face, being mindful of the wounds. Once he's fairly clean there I move to his chest, rinsing the rag out before doing so. He lets out a sigh as I wash his body, relaxing on the bed the longer I keep at it. I watch the water beads run off his pectoral muscles and down his sides, entranced by their path and also slightly  _jealous_ before I snap myself out of it and go back to being professional. I dab around the shoulder wound, deciding not to really work on that until I'm sure he's asleep. I can already tell it's not going to be fun to deal with.

I move down and examine the skin around his ankles, frowning at the torn skin there. That must be from where he was hung upside down. I'll have to disinfect and wrap them later on. I move back up and take one of his wrists in my hands, looking at the injuries there as well. A burst of anger shoots through me at the thought of what Arthur had to endure at the hands of these awful men. 

"Hey," Arthur takes his wrist out of my hand and instead places his hand on top of mine, "'m fine." I nod at him, agreeing with what he's saying. I know he just doesn't want me to get that upset but I can't help it. "You'll have to show me how you do this doctor thing of yours one day."

"One day," I agree, looking at him softly. I let go of his hand and sit back down. "Well, your face doesn't look  _that_ bad," I try to lighten the mood, leaning back in my chair. 

He chuckles, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a grin. "You and I are gonna look like we got in a fight with each other."

I place one hand on his cheek, rubbing under his eye with my thumb in soft strokes. He hums beneath my touch, turning slightly towards my hand. I feel my chest bloom with warmth at the action. 

"Here ya are," Miss Grimshaw steps in and hands me a long strip of white cloth. I take it with a thanks, placing it on the table by the water. I put the rag down and begin pressing my fingers in certain areas on Arthur's side, watching his face for any signs of pain. 

"I need you to be honest with me if any of this hurts, Arthur. It's going to let me know if you have any broken ribs," I explain to him as I work my way across his chest. He shakes his head but then I see him grimace as I press on his left side, just below the last rib. 

"Colm hit me with a gun there," he explains, lifting his hand up and resting it on the tender flesh. I can see how the mottled skin will be heavily bruised but I don't think anything's broken. 

"I don't think anything's broken, but you'll be tender for a few days." I tell him and scoot down to place my hand on his stomach and face his feet. "Now, I need you to lay still and take deep breaths for me. I need to check your lungs."

I place my ear on his sternum, feeling his body tense beneath me. I rest my left hand on his abdomen and splay my fingers out across the muscles there. His chest is wide and comfortable beneath my head. He's warm, the hair on his chest rubbing softly against my cheek. His abdomen is taut and strong beneath my hand and I resist the urge to run my fingers over the muscles that lay there. I can hear his heartbeat speed up but I don't hear him breathing. 

"Arthur," I say quietly, noticing how Miss Grimshaw is watching the two of us out of the corner of my eye, "I need you to take a deep breath." 

He finally does after a few seconds, the air filling his chest and lifting my head with it. I don't really hear much, maybe something from a slight cough but nothing that screams 'punctured lung' to me. After two more breaths I decide that he's probably fine and sit up, leaving my hand resting gently on his stomach. 

"That was good." I clear my throat, trying to ignore the fact that my ears are hot now. "You, uh, you should be fine. You might have a cold, but we'll watch that." 

Arthur stares down at me, one hand clenching the blanket beneath him and the other grasping the frame of the cot. He clears his throat, blinking his eyes rapidly and looking away from me and to Miss Grimshaw.

"Susan, would ya be a dear and get me a drink of that strong stuff?" Arthur's voice cracks slightly as he talks. 

"Only this once," Miss Grimshaw teases as she reaches around me to grab the bottle of whiskey. She takes the top off and hands it to him. He releases the bed and grabs the bottle, drinking for a few seconds before handing it back to her. 

"I need to be drunker than I am right now." He mutters, and I get the feeling he's talking to himself more than anyone else. 

"Alright Miss Grimshaw," I say tiredly, looking up at her over my shoulder. "Now is where I need your help." I look down at Arthur, noting how his hands are becoming more and more lax at his sides. "Go to sleep, Arthur." 

He mumbles something before turning his head to the side and letting out a sigh. I go to the table of supplies and rummage through it until I find the needle and thread, holding the needle up to the flame like I did those weeks ago when Arthur hurt his arm. I wish it was just his arm I was treating this time. 

"Alright," I step back once it's hot enough and hand Miss Grimshaw the bottle of the strongest alcohol we have, "I need you to pour that over his shoulder and then step back while I sew him up." She nods at me, stepping forward and getting ready to do as I said. 

"This won't be fun." I crack my neck and then get ready to hold Arthur still. 

* * *

At some point, two hours after Miss Grimshaw and I were done tending to Arthur's wounds and I was sure that he was as carefully bandaged as possible, I must have fallen asleep by his bed. I was exhausted by the time I finally got Arthur back to camp that I hadn't even thought of the fact that I was going to have to be awake even more after that. It was probably around five in the morning that I finally fell asleep. I'm glad that I had Arthur drink a lot because as soon as that alcohol touched his wound he nearly him and myself off the bed. We managed to calm him down and get a little more drink in him before he finally passed out--whether it was from the alcohol or that pain I'm not sure. 

When I finally wake up I see that I'm still sitting in that wooden chair, my head resting on my arms on his bed. There's a blanket draped around my shoulders so someone must have stopped in at some point. I sit up, drawing the blanket closer and looking around blearily. Arthur is still asleep, mouth hanging open as he snores softly. I smile, not expecting him to be such an... uncoordinated sleeper. I can't help myself when I reach a hand up and brush it lightly through his hair, pushing the strands back from where they had fallen in front of his face. 

"Mmm," Arthur sounds, cracking his eyes open as he closes his mouth, swallowing lightly. He grimaces and I reach behind me to the water that Miss Grimshaw brought me last night. I put it to his lips, letting him take a drink before he lays back against the pillow with a sigh. "You still here?" His voice is low and raspy with the new morning. 

I put the water back down before pressing the back of my hand to his forehead, feeling for a fever. There's nothing so I go back to carding my fingers through the long hair on top of his head. "I am. Go back to sleep." 

"If ya keep doin' that then that won't be a problem." He mumbles, closing his eyes again and turning his head towards my hand. After a few minutes of that he's asleep once more. I look at his watch and see that it's nearly noon, but I don't really mind. I'm going to let Arthur sleep all day if he wants to. There's no way he's going to be doing any strenuous activity for a while so he may as well get his strength back. I decide that I'm going to go to my bed as well and get some decent sleep when something catches my eye. 

I guess someone brought Arthur's belongings to his tent that were being stored on Winston, and one of the items must have fallen out and onto the ground. I lean down and pick it up, flipping it over to the front. 

It's Arthur's journal.

I remember that he wrote about  _everything_ in this thing. It was the equivalent of a teenage girl writing in her diary. I also know that the reason he wasn't afraid to write about everything was because he kept it close on his person where nobody else could even think of writing in it. 

_Should I open it_ _?_

It's sacred. It's Arthur's inner most thoughts. And it's sitting right here in my hands. 

The tent is closed and Arthur is fast asleep. Nobody would see me do it and Arthur wouldn't be any wiser.

I do feel guilty, but not guilty enough to stop as I pull off the leather strap and flip it open. The first few pages are the same as they're displayed in the game. The notes and drawings he makes are the same, and I'm once more floored by the artistic skill that this man has. It's better than anything I've ever drawn in my entire life. 

I see my name in a journal entry that grabs my attention. 

_Found a girl with Charles out riding a few days ago--weren't sure what to make of her. Name is Lily Edwards. She seems alright. Knew Charles and I's names, though. It's disturbing to say the least. Dutch is letting her run with us for now. She claims to be this doctor and so he thinks she could be useful. I ain't so sure she's a real doctor, but I guess we'll have to wait and see what she does. Took her into town with the girls to get some new clothes, ended up giving her some money. She says she'll pay me back._

I knew that Arthur didn't like me when I first met him. This just confirms what I felt. He seemed unsure and hesitant when he was around me those first few days. 

Then I turn a few pages in and what I see steals the breath from my lungs. 

It's me. 

Or, at least, I'm guessing it's me. It's from when I went and sat out on the dock that one morning before anyone else was awake. The drawing shows my form huddled on the edge of the dock, looking out at the sunrise in the distance. It's beautiful. 

I turn the page and see my name once more written in that beautiful cursive of his. He starts talking about being out with Hosea and the more I read I come to realize this is about the day I saved Jack's life.

_Hosea and I went on a hunting trip--old man almost cost us a bear but I got it. He went and shot a deer to make himself feel better, poor bastard. I get back and am changing clothes when Abigail starts screaming. Run out to see that Lily girl running towards the water where Jack has apparently drowned. I didn't even think, I just ran in and got the little guy. I was real scared when he didn't move once I had a hold of him. My heart nearly broke when Abigail started crying about her son being dead. Then Lily took the boy and started pressing on his chest real hard. We weren't sure what she was doing but she seemed to know so when Micah started yelling at her I stopped him. For some reason the two of them go at it worse than cats and dogs. I don't quite blame her._

I can't stop the grin that takes over my face.

_A few moments later and little Jack was coughing up water. He was alive! Whatever Lily did worked--I've decided to believe her story of being a doctor...for now._

The next page holds a new drawing. This one I  _know_ is me. It's from when he took me riding on Winston. I'm seated on top of the tall horse, my hair pulled back in a pony tail as I smile widely. The detail that he puts into the sketch steals my breath away. There's only one short sentence written on the page beside it. 

_Guess she ain't so bad._

I let out a giggle, throwing my head back and smiling. I flip through the journal some more, noticing that Arthur draws a lot more than he writes. And holy  _shit_ he draws a lot of me. Some deep feeling stirs in my chest as I look at all of them, at the detail and care he puts into each one. Me brushing Winston, me sitting with Mary-Beth and Tilly, sitting at the campfire, playing with Jack. This makes me finally realize that maybe Tilly and Mary-Beth are right--Arthur watches me a lot more than I know. Maybe the outlaw does have feelings for me. 

Hesitating for only a moment, I decide to add my own little entry. I grab his pencil, settling down in my chair. I'm no artist, but I'm going to try my best right now. I study the lines of his face, how the light from the sun that streams through the tent casts shadows on his cheekbones and nose. He's a beautiful man, and I know I won't be able to do him justice. 

After drawing for a while I finally deem it finished. Signing my name in my own cursive below the drawing, I write one sentence to the side where I know he'll see it. 

_Guess he ain't so bad_.

I close the journal and seal it shut, placing it carefully with his belongings on top of his chest. I stand up and pull the blanket tightly around me, looking down at his sleeping form one last time. Without second guessing myself I lean down and press a light kiss to his forehead and slip out of the tent, blushing to myself the whole time. 

 


	11. Tents and Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit you guys. I got more comments on that last chapter than any of the others! I'm blown away, I can't even describe how happy all of you made me feel. The horse names you suggested are all AMAZING! Some of them had me laughing out loud, and I'm sad that I can only use one name. So maybe I'll find other ways to incorporate your suggestions... but you'll have to wait to find out how *wink wink* I seriously can't express how much I love have for y'all. You're the real MVP's. This story would be nothing without your support. 
> 
> Question: Do you think Lily should buy her horse or catch one? I already have an idea for what I want to happen, but I'm curious as to what you guys think. 
> 
> If I don't post tomorrow, I want to wish you all a Happy New Year!

Something cold and wet presses against my nose. I scrunch my face up and pull away from it, hoping it gets the hint to leave me alone so I can go back to sleep. A few seconds later the sensation comes back, this time at my neck. It tickles slightly and I open my eyes, letting out a giggle. Cain is in front of my face on the ground beside me, his head resting on his paws as he wags his tail excitedly. 

"Hello, boy." I smile at the dog, reaching a hand up and scratching him between the ears. Cain sticks his nose into my neck again, licking the underside of my chin with his tongue. I let out a disgusted sound and push him back gently. "You need to find a breath mint before you think of doing that again." Cain lets out a whine, looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes of his. 

"Cain!" I hear Jack call a few moments before the boy comes stumbling over to my tent. He looks between the dog and I and frowns. "Cain, you was supposed to leave Miss Lily alone!"

I laugh, sitting up and running a hand through my hair to try to make it look more presentable. "It's okay Jack. I should probably get up anyways or else I won't be able to sleep tonight."

Jack smiles at me as I stand to my feet, stretching my arms and legs and hearing an occasional pop. Cain barks until I bend down and pet him again to satisfy him. The dog smiles up at me, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 

"That's a good boy right there, Jack." I comment, watching him laugh as Cain turns his furious licking onto the boy. After Cain is done with his assault he takes off somewhere else, hopefully not to bother anyone who might be sleeping. 

Jack watches the dog run away, about to take off after him when he stops. He turns and looks up at me, a serious look on his face--which for this boy is a rare occurrence. He looks so cute in his little outfit and moppy brown hair. 

"Is Uncle Arthur gonna be okay?" His voice is quiet and his little brows are furrowed. My heart tugs. "Momma said he got hurt, but that you were making him feel better. I don't like it when Uncle Arthur gets hurt."

I kneel down so that I'm eye-level with Jack. I notice that he has the same habit that I do, which is hiding his hands in the sleeves of his shirt. I reach forward and fix the lapels of his little jacket, looking him straight in the eye. 

"Your Uncle Arthur is going to be just fine. He'll be up and going fishing with you real soon, I promise." I feel bad for this boy. Though we live outside, there can't be much in this camp that can entertain a six-year old forever. And with the lake being this close to us I know it makes Abigail uneasy--so she keeps an even tighter leash on him since he nearly died. 

"Jack, would you like to learn how to swim?"

"Swim?" He asks, peering up at me. 

"Yeah, I can teach you how to swim so your momma doesn't get so scared anymore. Would you like that?"

A grin breaks out across his face, a look so contagious that I can't help but do it myself. "I would love to! Momma says that daddy needs to learn, but he won't. She wants him to teach me but he can't."

John can't swim? Is that why he didn't go after Jack himself?

"Well, I can teach the both of you." I say with a tap on the boy's nose. He giggles. "Now, why don't you go and make sure that Cain doesn't get into Mr. Pearson's food again? I'll talk with your momma later."

Jack smiles again and I'm glad that the serious look is gone. It doesn't fit the six-year old's face. He takes off, running past the people of the camp to go find where it is that Cain is barking from. I stand back up, brushing my pants off and looking around. I probably only slept for a good two hours, which is pretty good. I was serious about not wanting to mess up my sleep schedule--living out in the wilderness means needing all the strength one can get. 

I go to Sadie's tent first, looking around to see if she's near. I don't spot her inside so I make a note to find her later. I need to make sure she got her belt back. I took it off and put it on Arthur's chest before I feel asleep and it wasn't there when I woke up. I'm hoping that it was her who went and grabbed it. 

I go over to Pearson's table, interrupting the conversation he's having with Hosea. 

"Do you have any soft foods?" I ask, looking at the array of things laid out on his wagon. "Or any more of that stew I can heat up? I want to give Arthur something to eat but it can't be tough. His chest isn't in good shape."

Pearson turns around, rummaging through his belongings. Hosea smiles at me, stepping over to my side. "How is he?"

I let out a sigh, watching Pearson for a moment before facing the older man. "He's... he's better than he was when I found him. He's going to be sleeping a lot for a while, or at least I'm going to make sure he is."

Hosea lets out a short laugh. "Arthur always was a stubborn one when it came to resting, so I'll wish you good luck on that front."

"They hurt him real bad, Hosea." I say quietly, crossing my arms over my chest. "I know that Arthur is just putting on a brave face, but he's in pain. Back home--I could help with that. I could make it so he didn't feel a thing. Here, though? The best I can do is get him drunk and that's not good for his organs."

Hosea puts a warm hand on my shoulder, his presence a comfort. "Arthur is strong, Lily. Don't you worry about him. That man has been to hell and back and has lived to tell the tale. You just keep doing what you're doing and he'll be back on his feet in no time."

I laugh. "That's basically what I told Jack."

Hosea smiles once more as Pearson brings me a small bowl of food. "He'll be fine."

"Here ya go," Pearson's scratchy voice breaks the moment. I take the bowl from the man, noting the piece of bread and soup inside. "Just go put the bowl over the fire for a minute and it'll warm up enough."

"Thank you," I say, nodding at the two men before walking over to the fire. I place the food on the metal stand over the flames, sitting down on the log with the piece of bread in my hand and wait for it to heat up. I stir it with a spoon for a little and then finally deem it good enough. I grab the bowl, standing back up and moving towards Arthur's tent. I push the flap aside gently, checking to see if Arthur's even awake. He isn't, so I make my way carefully to his side and place the food on the table before pulling the chair up to his side once more. 

"Arthur," my voice is soft, "you need to eat." 

He's still in the same position that I left him in, his head turned towards the east side. I pull the blanket down his chest a little and check the bandages around his shoulder, making sure that the stitches I gave him haven't ripped out or that he isn't still bleeding. He shifts underneath my touch as I check his other scratches, my eyes roving of their own free will over the small pink and white scars on his chest that healed from other wounds. How much has this man been through?

I once more check to see if he's got a temperature, placing the back of my hand flat against his forehead. Satisfied that he doesn't seem unusually warm I do what I did this morning, carding my fingers through his hair gently. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he slowly opens his eyes. 

"Food, Arthur." I tell him, releasing him and turning around to grab the bowl of soup off the table. He frowns at me, still trying to wake himself up so that he can understand what's going on right now. 

"'time is it?" He asks, his voice low and gravelly from being asleep for so long. 

I grab his pocket watch, flipping it open and looking at it. "Almost three in the afternoon." I snap it shut and put it on his desk. 

He coughs, lifting his good arm up so that he can run his hand across his face. He lets out a sigh before pushing himself into a seated position with his elbows. He grunts, a flicker of pain flashing across his face before he has the chance to hide it. 

"Be careful!" I hiss, leaning forward and placing a hand on his back to help him up. He stiffens, looking at me groggily and for the first time he seems to realize two things: he's naked, and I'm in his tent alone with him. 

He grasps the edge of the blanket that's spread over him, pulling it to his body as he backs away slightly from me. 

"Why on God's green Earth do I not have any clothes on?" He sounds irritated as he frowns at me. The black eye and multiple cuts on his face that he's sporting definitely helps to make him look meaner than I know he's intending to be. 

I roll my eyes, taking my hand off him and leaning back. "Do you not remember last night? Arthur, Miss Grimshaw and I fixed you up--"

"--Susan saw me naked--!"

"--I'm the one who took your clothes off, you idiot!" I start to feel irritation of my own build up. Here I am, trying to help a man who I went out to find on my own and he's being nothing but a stubborn bull about not having any clothes on? "I  _had to_ in order to assess your injuries!"

"Assess my--" he cuts himself off, sputtering nonsense, "I was fine! I had everythin' under control!"

"Everything under control?" I ask, giving him an 'are you kidding me' look. "You were passed out on top of Winston when I found you! I thought you were dead!"

Arthur goes quiet, some of the anger dissipating from his expression. He casts his gaze away from me as he seems to deflate a little bit. "You came out and found me."

"You're damn right I did," I huff, putting the bowl of soup in his lap and laying the bread beside it. He looks down at it with surprise, not trying to hide it when he faces me again. "And with the way you're acting you're making me regret it." 

Arthur reaches forward and I can't help but feel a little bad for my outburst when I see the hand on his bad side shake slightly. He picks up the bread, smelling it first before taking a bite. He stops chewing and looks at me, eyes wide. 

"This is Pearson's good bread." He takes another bite, eyes closing as he enjoys his food. When the piece is gone he picks up the bowl, taking the spoon that I offer to him from my hand. I watch as he takes a few bites, savoring the soup. I can only imagine how hungry he must be. 

"What happened, Arthur?" I ask quietly, sitting back in the chair with my legs crossed. He pauses with the spoon in his bowl, setting it back down on his lap and making sure the blanket is adjusted before facing me. 

"It was a setup."

"Yeah," I snort, "you said as much last night."

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a grin at that before that damn frown comes back. "Micah suggested that Dutch try to 'make ammends' with Colm--I didn't like it, and neither did Dutch. After Dutch finally agreed I figured I might as well find out what Colm's whole business with you was."

I sit up quickly. I didn't know that they were going to involve me in this? 

"Micah wanted you along with us because he said it might help, but I convinced Dutch ta let you sleep. You had just been in that fight in town and I didn't, well, I wanted you to..." he trails off, looking away from me and shaking his head, "anyways, just the three of us left. Pearson was even convinced it was a good idea so Dutch decided to go through with it."

Of course Micah would want me to go meet up with the _one_ person who wants to do who knows what to me. As much as I want to press him on _his_ specific reasoning for not going with them, I decide against it and instead focus on the part where things went wrong. "I know all that. Hosea told me. What happened when they... when they took you?"

A muscle in Arthur's jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together tightly. Maybe I shouldn't push him on this. I can't imagine it would be easy to talk about--and from what I know about Arthur, he's a strong man. A proud man. He doesn't like being weak, and getting kidnapped by O'Driscoll's couldn't have been an easy for him to take  _mentally_ , let alone physically. 

"Shot me. Beat me. Kicked me real good in the chest," he laughs harshly as he absentmindedly rubs a spot where a giant bruise lays over his left pectoral muscle. "Colm strung me up in a basement somewhere and beat me some more. Told me his plan was to get Dutch to send some big rescue mission after me and then catch the lot of 'em before turning us all into the Pinkerton's." 

"Wouldn't they want Colm and his men as well?"

Arthur shrugs, stirring his soup unconsciously. "Guess he made a deal with 'em so that he and his men got off free. Woulda got a big payload for it too, apparently."

It's only when I feel a sharp pain in my palm do I realize that I was curling my hands into fists, squeezing them tighter the more that Arthur talked. There are crescent shapes left in my skin from my fingernails. 

"I broke out and killed two of those sons of bitches. Didn't have time to grab my guns before findin' Winston and takin' off. Real pissed about that one. I personalized those things." He shakes his head to make himself try to forget it. "I rode on Winston for a while and snuck out of there without alertin' anymore of 'em. Finally passed out at some point. Guess that's around the time you found me." He stares at me, his eyes soft and almost... _vulnerable_. "I woulda died if you hadn't shown up." 

"That's not true," I argue, knowing that he eventually found the camp on his own in the game, "I just... helped you speed things along."

Arthur reaches a hand out and takes one of mine his grasp, holding onto it tightly and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles gently. "Either way, I owe ya." He lifts my hand and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. I feel myself blushing furiously, hating that it's sometimes so easy to read emotions on my face. He watches me while he does it and I  _know_ he's aware of what he does to me when he acts like this.

"And I still owe you two hundred dollars." I say after neither of us says anything for a few seconds. I try to relieve some of the tension that begins building in this small tent, not ready to poke that bee's nest quite yet. Not when he's still healing. 

Arthur rolls his eyes and groans while I pull my hand back with a giggle. "Will ya give it a rest, already? I ain't takin' none of your damn money."

I rub my pointer finger and thumb together in front of his face before standing. "Moneh," I say, dropping my voice and trying to imitate the way he talks. I over exaggerate his accent, getting a smile from him for my efforts. "I'll be back in a little to make sure everything's okay. In the mean time you finish that food and then just lay back down. No strenuous activity until I say so."

I walk out of the tent, hearing him grumble to himself about having to be bedridden for a while. "I'm serious about the money!" He calls after me once the tent flap has closed. I shake my head with a smile as I make my way over to Sadie's tent once more. 

She still isn't there, but I do spot her throwing knives over on the edge of the woods. She's chucking them at a tree and I watch as they lodge deep in the bark each time that she throws them. It's quite impressive how good she it, actually.

"Sadie!" I call, and she stops just before throwing another knife. She turns to me, lowering her arms and giving me her own version of a smile. It's actually more like a person who's looking directly at the sun and trying not to be blinded, but I notice how she's trying. I appreciate it. 

"Did you get your belt back?" I ask when I finally reach her. She taps said item that's currently resting around her waist. "Oh," I say, feeling dumb that I didn't notice it before, "well I wanted to say thank you again for helping me last night. Especially when nobody else did."

She waves me off, facing the tree again and getting ready to throw another knife. "Don't mention it. I like Arthur--and I'm just glad that someone's exercising my horse for me. Seems like I don't do it nearly enough."

I watch her throw a few more times until she runs out and has to go collect them. When she's walking back she stops, peering at me. She looks at me from head to toe, trying to find something. It makes me slightly self-conscious.

"What?" I finally ask when she doesn't say anything. 

"What are you thinkin' about?" She asks, lining up once more. The blade sinks into the tree like the last five did. 

I cross my arms, leaning on one hip as I watch her. "I talked to Arthur about what happened."

She stops throwing, staring ahead for a few seconds before turning to me. There's a somber look on her face. "He didn't look too good."

"What they did to him wasn't too good." I look out among the trees for a few moments, watching the light filter through as the sun prepares to set once more. "He told me he didn't have a lot of time to get out of there when he did. Had to leave a lot of stuff behind. Personal things."

Sadie mulls over what I've said for a minute. "So you thinkin' of buyin' him new things?"

I shake my head. "I'm thinking of going back and getting his stuff."

She raises her eyebrows, clearly not expecting me to say something like that. "You? You're gonna take on a bunch of O'Driscoll's by yourself?"

"No," I bite the inside of my cheek as I prepare my next words, "I was hoping you would help me."

Sadie puts her knives away, planting her hands on her hips as she stares at me. "Are you outta your mind?"

This isn't exactly the reaction I thought she would have. "You don't want to help me?"

"Hell yeah I'm goin' with ya." She scoffs, brushing past me and walking briskly to her tent. I follow after her, confused by how she seemed so appalled by the idea one second and is completely on board with it the next. 

"You are?"

"Listen," she stops and faces me so fast that I nearly run into her, "Arthur is one of the few men at this camp that I actually trust. Those men not only killed my husband, but they also hurt my friend." She continues on her way to her tent as I stumble after her. "There's no way I'm lettin' this opportunity to kill them bastards pass me by."

"O-okay," I say, watching her pull out a case from under her bed. She opens it and I see more pistols, a few rifles and many boxes of ammo. She looks up, studying me for a second before pulling out a pistol just a little smaller than the one Arthur let me borrow and holding it out for me to take. It's heavier than I was expecting it to be, with the handle on it smooth from obvious use. 

"This for me?" I ask, looking at it uncertainly. She nods, standing and slinging a rifle over her back. 

"Just in case. You need to be able to protect yourself."

"You're not the first one to tell me that." I mutter under my breath. She keeps talking like she didn't hear me. 

"There's probably gonna be loads of 'em there, and as much as I would love for this to be just you and I we're probably gonna need some help. There's few people who I would trust to bring on this job."

"And you trust me?" I ask. 

The smile she gives me this time seems less pained. "I certainly like ya more than others in this camp. Now, how would ya feel if Lenny and Charles came with us?"

I blink, not expecting to immediately be going out to get Arthur's things. I thought maybe we'd plan for a bit but she's ready to go  _now_. 

"That's fine with me."

"Good. I'll go talk to 'em and then we'll stop in town before we head on over, get you some proper supplies so that you're not just tuckin' that gun in your pants like you is now. You got money, right?" I nod my head, looking down at where the gun is sticking out of the waistband of my pants. Where else am I supposed to put it? I don't have a gun belt because I don't own any guns. "Do you know where this hideout is?"

I shake my head. "I think Arthur was out of it too much to really know where his surroundings were. I can take us in the general direction, but I'm not sure of the specific location."

She hums, nodding to herself. "Alright. When we go to town we'll ask around for a little bit, see if anyone talks. Then we'll go out. I'm gonna go talk to the boys and I'll meet you by the horses in fifteen. You'll ride with me." And with that she walks out of the tent and heads over to where Charles is speaking with Javier.

I don't really know what to do now, so I wander back to the center of camp. I pause by Arthur's tent, hesitating for only a moment before I push my way inside and see that he's laid back on the bed and fast asleep once more. Eating a warm meal probably helped him with that. 

It's probably for the best that I can't tell him what it we're about to do. I get the feeling that he wouldn't be too happy with the idea of us going to an O'Driscoll camp to get his belongings back, but damnit, I'm pissed off about what they did to him. 

And for once in my life, I'm not too upset with the idea of possibly having to take a life. 

And that scares the hell out of me.


	12. Missing Property

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I won't have time to later tonight. Thank you for the comments and kudos!
> 
> Shout out to CailynAmanda for an idea that I use later in this chapter. (For those of you who also gave suggestions, I have some ideas of how to use them later on... you'll see ;) )
> 
> Happy New Year!

Before we left camp I found Miss Grimshaw and asked her to watch over Arthur while we were gone. She obliged, though I could tell she was curious about what it is we were going to do. 

Lenny and Charles were more than willing to come along--Lenny showing more excitement than Charles. The younger boy seemed to always jump at a chance to prove himself, and he said that if he could help Arthur in any way then he was on board. After we got on our horses Sadie led us to Rhodes where the men waited while her and I went into first the general store and then the gunsmith. She had me buy a gun belt that had one holster for me to hold my weapon in. It hung sideways off my hips and at first I was afraid it would fall off or something, but after moving around for a while I realized it wasn't going to move unless I undid the belt. Practical. 

We grabbed some tonics and food at the general store while we were there just in case. After reading the ingredients on some of the tonics I couldn't help but make a face and Sadie just reassured me that they actually worked, though some of the stronger ones had bad side affects. I put those back and only grabbed the ones that looked somewhat okay to me. I stared longingly at the tent supplies that were housed in the back of the store and Sadie promised that on our way back we would stop in again and she would help me get one. We just didn't have room to carry anything else on the horses at the moment. I agreed with her and we went outside to start asking around for the O'Driscoll hideout. 

Charles seemed to have luck on his side when he went into the saloon. Apparently a few friends of the guys that Sadie and I met the other day were there and looking for them. Charles, Lenny, and Sadie took them out back and questioned them while I stayed with the horses. When they came back I saw a few splatters of blood on their hands and clothing, but I said nothing. Charles told me that he knew where to go and after a mere thirty minutes of searching for answers we were riding off to get Arthur's belonging's back. 

"You know," Lenny breaks the silence about an hour into the trip, riding up alongside Sadie so that he can talk to me, "when Micah was taken to Strawberry to get hanged I was real shaken up. Dutch had Arthur take me ta Valentine and get me drunk." Lenny shakes his head fondly at the memory, a smile breaking out across his face. "Don't think Dutch meant for us  _both_ to get so drunk that Arthur apparently saw my face on every person he ran into."

A startled laugh leaves my mouth. I adjust my hold on Sadie as I brush my hair out of my face that decides to be unruly in the wind. What Lenny's telling me sounds vaguely familiar but I don't know why. "He never told me that."

Lenny shrugs. "It happened a while before we found you. We started a fight at the saloon. I got arrested. Arthur didn't. Kinda think he feels bad about that."

"How did you get out?"

The corner's of Lenny's mouth curls upwards wickedly. "Dutch blew out the wall of the jail. Scared the sheriff half to death." Lenny may be a little younger and less experienced than the other people in the camp, but his youthfulness is nice. The way that he can just laugh off being arrested and breaking out of jail. His happiness is infectious and I can't stop myself from laughing with him even if I wanted to. 

"Sounds to me like he enjoys drinking too much." 

"That he does," Charles agrees, pulling Taima, his beautiful spotted Appaloosa along Sadie's other side. "Though I'm not surprised a man like him does."

That draws my interest. "What do you mean by that?"

Charles looks at me for a moment before turning back ahead. "I haven't been with the group long. It was hard for me at first, due to my heritage. Having a black father and Indian mother means that people take one look at me and find two things that they don't like straight away. Arthur isn't like most men--he met me and treated me like he would any other person. There was no discrimination. He gets a lot of backlash for that."

I frown, feeling bad for this man. "Charles, there is nothing wrong with you. Regardless of who your parents are. I'm sure they were wonderful people on their own." Charles looks slightly surprised. He's probably not used to people not hurling insults their way the first time they see him. "Back where I'm from, everyone's the same. Sure, there are a few who still act like dick's, but the majority overrules them and  _they're_ usually the ones who get yelled at for acting that way. I wasn't raised to hate people for what they look like or who their parents were. I get to know someone before judging them." I can't help but scowl. "Like Micah, for example."

Charles lets out a laugh, and it's pleasant to hear. Lenny joins in and Sadie even snickers in front of me. 

"Yeah, that Micah is a piece of work. Dutch likes him though, so I try to work with him."

"He sure does make a lotta mean comments, though." Lenny mutters, and I face him to see he's frowning. 

"If I hear him say  _one_ mean thing about you two, I will fight that man. I don't even care." I shake my head to accentuate my point. "I will literally not take that shit. I understand if you two won't say anything to him, but I didn't just sit by idly back home when people said stuff, and I certainly won't do that here. Not when he's shit talking my friends."

"We your friends?" Lenny asks, and I see that heartfelt smile crawl across his face to replace the frown that was there. 

"Charles has saved my life twice. Sadie has helped me in more ways than one, and Lenny? Well, you're just too sweet to not want to be friends with."

Sadie laughs as Lenny turns to the side bashfully. When he looks at me again his eyes are soft and there are dimples showing in his cheeks. 

"You're pretty sweet yourself, Miss Lily."

"Hey now," Charles butts in, and I see that he's also smiling at us, "she's taken."

"I am not," I argue, and even Sadie turns back at me when I say that. She looks at me like I'm stupid and I roll my eyes. "I'm  _not_."

"You are," she faces forwards again, snapping the reigns and getting the horse to go faster, "you just don't know it yet."

"What?" I question, trying to get one of them to elaborate on that, but they just start to laugh to themselves and leave me looking like an idiot. "Some friends you guys are." I mutter, and they laugh harder.

* * *

"Hitch your horses here," Charles instructs an hour later. We passed the area that I found Arthur about twenty minutes prior, and I'm slightly thrown off by the fact that I was so close to the hideout the other night. One gunshot or some loud sound and they would've been on him and I faster than vultures on a carcass. "It'll be dark in about an hour, and we'll attack then. We can scope the area out now, get an idea of how many there are." 

The three of us do as he says, me sliding off of Bob--I didn't question the name of Sadie's horse when she told me--and her following suit once I'm on the ground. She grabs a pair of binoculars out of the saddlebag and Charles crouches down low before leading us forward. 

We sneak up to the top of a hill and stop when he holds his hand out to the side. He places a finger to his mouth, telling us to be quiet before he pulls out his own binoculars and looking down below. I can make out a small cabin with a barn to the side. Between the barn and cabin is a fire, there appears to be about three men sitting around it. I can't make out much until Sadie passes me her binoculars and I look through them. 

There are actually four men around the fire, and a fifth one in the stable distributing hay to some of the horses that are stored inside. I watch as some cellar doors by the base of the cabin are flung open, and two men walk out. 

"Shit," Charles mutters under his breath. "That's Colm. He doesn't look happy."

I look closer through the lenses, trying to see the man's face. He's older than Dutch, with long gray hair growing out from under his hat. Charles was right about him not being happy. He looks downright  _pissed_ in fact. He shoves the man who came up with him to the ground, pulling out a gun and shooting him in the head. 

I take a sharp inhale of air when the body hits the ground. I wasn't expecting Colm to be the kind of guy who would kill his own men, but I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised. The other men around him all scramble around, trying to get out of the way of their leader's wrath. Colm waves his gun around, seeming to shout something at them before mounting what I'm guessing is his horse and taking off in the opposite direction that we came from. 

"Arthur said that they were going to lure us in and capture us. He was going to turn us over to the law." I say quietly, slowly lowering my binoculars to look at the others. Their faces are hard pressed as they stare at the group of men down below us. 

"They'll never be seeing the law again when we're through with them." Sadie growls, and puts her hand on her guns. Charles places a large palm--holy  _shit_ his hands are huge--on her back and stops her from getting to her feet. 

"We have to be patient. We need to be smart about this."

Sadie mumbles something under her breath but listens to him, crouching back down and letting go of her pistol. 

"I think I see some of Arthur's things on the table by the stable there." Charles starts leading us back down the hill and to the horses. "One hour," he promises, and we all nod in confirmation. 

One hour. 

* * *

By the time the sun has set and we've got all our weapons gathered it's been almost two hours. Charles wants to be sure that we can get this done cleanly without having to worry about more of them showing up. We agree with him, waiting up on the top of the hill as we watch them. 

"Okay," Charles faces us, his voice low and hushed, "Lenny, you're going to be with Sadie. You two take out the man patrolling around the cabin and then if you get a chance try to get one of the three men at the campfire. Do it quietly. We want to do this as stealthily as possible."

"What about me?" I whisper.

The light from the moon accentuates the angles on Charles face. There's a deep set in his brow as he looks at all of us. He pulls his bow out from behind his back, knocking an arrow. "You're going to stay with me. We're going to focus on the men by the stable." His eyes flicker to Sadie and Lenny. "That's why I want you to help us if you get the chance." He looks down at the hideout for a moment, the chirping of crickets and occasional soft whinnies of the horses the only sound in the night. "There seems to be about five men, maybe more in the cellar. We can either lock that up and leave them there or take them out."

"I'll deal with 'em." Sadie steps up, tipping her head. I know asking her to come with me was a good idea because she wouldn't shy away from the chance of getting to take out any of the O'Driscolls. 

Charles makes a noise of agreement and Lenny sidles up to Sadie. "Once you've taken out the patrol is when we'll move in. If things get hairy and we have to leave, meet at Horseshoe Overlook. Don't lead them to camp if you think they're following you."

Sadie and Lenny start sneaking down the hill, making their way through the bushes and over to the one corner of the cabin. 

"Here," Charles draws my attention back to him and I see him holding a knife out to me. I take it, watching the way the silver blade glints in the moonlight. "Don't use your gun unless you have to. Stay close to my side, and you'll be fine." I nod, and Charles stares at me for a few moments. "Arthur would kill me if I let anything happen to you." He groans, and I don't have time to question him about that before he's up and moving. 

I follow after him as we move in the opposite direction that the other two went. We slip down the side of the hill and I try my best not to slip on the loose gravel and dirt. We stop behind a tree a few feet outside of the barn, watching as an O'Driscoll exits through the double doors and starts walking in the direction of the other three men. 

Charles moves faster than I can blink, slinking forward and placing his hands on either side of the man's head before twisting it violently. The man doesn't make a sound but there's a crack as the neck breaks, Charles catching the body before it can slump to the ground. He drags the man over towards where I'm hiding, letting him drop behind a cluster of bushes. He searches his pockets, pulling out whatever valuables he can find before tossing them at me. I catch a gold bracelet, about three dollars in cash and some medicine for a horse. I slip it into the pocket of my pants and move up to his side. 

"Be ready," Charles murmurs, drawing his bow and bringing the string back to rest against his cheek. He holds his breath, closing one eye to aim towards the remaining O'Driscolls. His arms are taut, ready to release the deadly weapon with a simple breath. 

A knife goes flying through the air and lodges itself in the neck of one of the men. As the man splutters and falls to the ground the other two jump apart, reaching for their guns and yelling. Charles releases his arrow and it lands in the center of one man's chest causing him to also go down. The remaining O'Driscoll fires off one shot in our direction, the bullet hitting the bark of the tree that we were just hiding at. Charles pulls out another arrow and fires it in less than two seconds, this time hitting him in the shoulder. The man grasps the wound and goes down, almost landing in the fire. 

"Go search the house!" Charles calls to Lenny when he and Sadie emerge from the side of the cabin. Lenny nods, pulling out his rifle and kicking the door to the building open. Sadie heads for the cellar doors, both pistols held in her hands as she carefully goes down the steps. 

"I'm going to search the bodies, why don't you go find Arthur's things?" Charles tells me and I go to do as he says, stuffing the knife he gave me into one of the slots on my belt. If he wants to be the one to touch the bastards instead of me, then I'm okay with that. 

I head over to the horses, remembering that Charles thought he saw the weapons over there. I go to the side where the hay bales are stacked alongside the side of the barn. There's a wooden table beside it, tools and such strewn about. 

Once I get closer I see some heavy duty weapons thrown on there as well. I pick up the springfield rifle, holding it close and seeing the detail on the stock of the gun. There's also a leather wrap on it. These must be Arthur's. 

I throw two guns with straps over my shoulders, along with the bow, and bundle up the rest of the items in my arms. How in the world did Arthur carry all these things? I can already feel my arms begin to ache from the strain of carrying all this weight. 

"Don't. Move."

I stop in my tracks, my blood freezing as I hear the click of a gun behind my head. My eyes widen as my heartbeat speeds up, nearly dropping everything that I'm holding as I feel pure fear take over. 

"Lily!" Charles calls, standing from where he was crouched over a body and hand going for his gun. 

"You touch that thing and she dies." The man behind me growls, fully pressing the barrel of the gun to my skull. I guess the terror on my face must show because Charles stops moving, raising his hands to show that he's not going to try anything. 

I glance around, trying to see if we missed anyone when I notice that there are only two men on the ground. 

The man that Charles shot in the shoulder is missing. 

"Ooh, when Colm found out that Arthur was gone, he was mad as hell." The man lets out a laugh, though it sounds pained and forced. "But now? Now I got  _four_ of the Van Der Linde  _shits_ here. Hell, after we get the others he'll finally let me kill that bastard Morga--"

I don't even think. There's a loud clatter as the weapons fall out of my arms and the next thing I know the knife that Charles gave me is in my hand and embedded in the O'Driscoll's neck, an inhuman screech sounding in the air. I recognize in the back of my mind that the sound came from _me_. His eyes are wide as he stares down at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he struggles to get words out. The gun that he had pressed to the back of my head falls to the ground and he lifts his hands to grapple with the blade in his throat but he's lost too much blood and isn't strong enough. 

The reality of what I've just done hits me in the chest like a ton of bricks, throwing me off balance as I stumble backwards. I trip over Arthur's weapons and fall to the ground, scrambling backwards with my elbows and heels to get  _away_ from the dying man. He falls onto his back and lies still.

Watching someone die doesn't faze me. Not anymore. What bothers me is that I just took his life. I  _killed_ him. I am the reason that this man will no longer live to see another day. 

"...Lily?" 

I look up to see Sadie crouched at my side, staring at me with concern. Something in my expression must scare her because she cups my face between her hands carefully, flickering her eyes between mine. 

"Hmm?" I ask, not quite focusing on her. 

"Have you ever...?" She trails off, not wanting to voice her question. But I know what she's trying to ask. 

I let out a shaky breath, looking back at the dead body on the ground again. The arrow that Charles shot him with sticks out into the air. I can't see the knife from where I'm seated. 

"No," I say quietly, looking up at her. "I've never... I'm not..." I close my eyes, feeling a traitorous tear slip out of the corner of my eye. I scrunch my face up as I feel it slide down my face to drip off my chin. "I'm supposed to  _save_ people." I whisper to myself. 

"Well," Sadie clears her throat, albeit a little awkwardly, "you did good. He was either going to shoot you or Charles and then turn the rest of us in. You did a good thing, Lily. That man deserved ta die."

"All of us have done worse than that," Lenny adds, and I open my eyes to see him stepping down the steps towards us. "We're outlaws. It comes with the job."

"Don't beat yourself up too much." Charles stands beside Sadie and I, holding a hand out to help me stand. I place my shaky hand in his, feeling him grip it tightly in his own as he pulls me to my feet. He's unwavering, an anchor when I need it the most. 

"Killing people is not a good thing." My voice wavers. These are some of the strongest people I know and I hate looking so weak in front of them right now. 

"It can be," Sadie contradicts, leaning down and picking up some of Arthur's things. "If it came down to it and I had to choose between my life and someone else's, I'd choose mine. Just like you did." She pats me on the back and then walks over to the campfire. 

Charles takes one last look at me before scooping up the rest of the weapons. "Lenny, why don't you go let those horses out. Don't let the O'Driscolls have them."

Lenny nods and starts walking over. A sudden idea pops into my head, and I grab Lenny's arm. "Can... would it be okay if I took one? I don't have a horse."

Lenny raises a brow. "You want an O'Driscoll horse?"

I shake my head. "It's better than spending an arm and leg on one. I'll just use it for now so that I don't have to keep riding with people, and then I'll sell it or something when I find my own."

He shrugs, nodding his head. "Can't argue with that. Come pick one and then we'll let the rest go."

I follow him to the stables, looking at the horses that are currently feeding on some hay. There are only three horses in here. It looks like there's an Appaloosa like Charles', A Tennessee Walker, and at the end is an American Paint. I'm instantly drawn to the brown and white horse. I walk down to it's side, seeing that it's still saddled and ready to be ridden. 

"I want this one," I tell him, going over to the stirrups and beginning to adjust them like Arthur showed me. "You seem like a good boy." I give it a pat on the neck, watching as it shakes it's mane. I can already feel how this horse is making me forget what just happened, lifting my spirits slightly. 

"A Paint? Alright. You'll get a good penny when you sell it if nothing else."

I finish getting the saddle ready and unhitch it, leading it out of the stable and waiting for Lenny to take the saddles off the other horses before giving them a firm smack on their hindquarters. They take off with a whinny, running over the hills and into the night. 

I pointedly ignore looking at the body on the ground as I lead the horse over to Sadie and Charles. They give questioning glances at me but don't chastise me for taking one. 

"It's about time," Sadie teases, walking forward to put the things in her hands on my horse, "was gettin' tired of haulin' you everywhere."

I scoff, ignoring the burning in my eyes as the remnants of my past crying still lingers. "Sure you were. That whole two times."

She smirks at me, and then the three of them start walking back to where we hitched our horses. I climb into the saddle, clucking my tongue softly as the horse begins walking forward. He isn't as tall or big as Winston, but he's still powerful. I can feel it in his heavy steps beneath me. 

"What are you gonna name him?" Lenny asks as I ride ahead of them. 

A name? I take a good look at the horse, thinking deeply on what I could give it. 

A smile spreads slowly across my face as I finally decide on one. Something that only I'll be able to understand. 

"Chewbacca. Or just Chewie for short."

They're silent for a few moments, until finally Lenny speaks up. 

"The fuck is a 'Chewbacca'?" 


	13. Letting it Slip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope you all had a wonderful New Year's! Love the comments and kudos--they feed my writing machine lmao. 
> 
> Shoutout to MidnightGuardian and CailynAmanda once again for some inspiration for this chapter! I love reading the suggestions you all have for what you want to read! I do try to do what you want, so keep letting me know!
> 
> Question: what are your opinions on Mary Linton? Like her or not? Want to see her in this story or not?

We ride back to camp, taking a different route and turning around,sometimes going on back paths just in case we think we're being followed. We all decide that it's probably for the best if we don't tell Dutch and Micah that we see Colm, otherwise he would probably have us all attack the area. That's the last thing we need is to have even more attention brought to us. It's late when we finally get back and so most of the camp is still asleep. I thank the others for their help, even offering them money but they brush it off. They tell me that they're glad they did it. 

They're some pretty cool people. 

I take off most of Arthur's weapons from Chewie--I still laugh to myself at the name--and put them on Winston's saddle so that Arthur can find them later. I take his pistols and bow and head towards his tent, not even bothering to check to see if he's asleep since it's past midnight. I'm right about him sleeping, but what I see worries me. 

He has a sheen of sweat on his body as he breathes in and out heavily. His face is contorted into one of pain, his chin trembling with some unknown fear. I quickly put my things on his table and go to his side, cupping his face gently in my hands. 

"Arthur?" I call, trying to snap him out of whatever nightmare he must be having. He feels a little feverish, but nothing too concerning. "Arthur." I say his name louder, shaking his shoulder at the same time. His eyes fly open and he moves towards me instantly, his hands gripping my arms tightly. He takes a shuddering breath, eyes wild as he gazes at me. His face is pale and I brush the hair back from his face with a frown. 

"Hey," I tell him reassuringly, "it's okay. It was just a dream."

He loses some of the glaze in his eyes, and I can tell he's coming back to me. His hands gradually loosen their grip and he just sits there, holding me. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his forehead against my stomach. I'm stunned for a few seconds until my mind begins to work again. I wrap one hand around his shoulders and rest the other on top of his head, brushing down it with soothing strokes. He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me tightly. The warm feeling that builds inside me is so intense that I can't control myself when I lean down and press a soft kiss to the crown of his head. 

"Where were ya?" He asks, his words somewhat muffled from his mouth being pressed to my skin. The vibration of it tickles slightly. 

"Nowhere important," I tell him, my mind briefly flashing a picture of a body laying dead on the ground. "Go back to sleep."

I help him lay down on his back, watching as he closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. "Stay for a lil' bit?" His voice is quiet.

I pull up the chair that I sat on before, sitting down on it and crossing my legs as I lean against the back. "Of course."

He holds out his hand closest to mine and I don't hesitate as I hold it between mine, running my fingers in a calming pattern across the back of his knuckles. I stay like that until he's fast asleep, and then a little longer. Just to make sure he's okay.

* * *

"Abigail!" I get the woman's attention the next morning and she looks up from where she was trying to fold some of Jack's clothes. She smiles at me as I walk over to her, sitting down on her bed as I sit in the chair outside the tent. "I have a question for you."

"I'm listenin'."

"Would it be okay with you if I taught Jack how to swim?" I see the uncertainty on her face almost instantaneously. "I'll do it in shallow water to begin with so that he won't be too far out. The boy is going to have to learn sooner or later, and it's best if he learns sooner rather than later."

"You know how to swim?" I nod. She worries on her bottom lip, looking to the ground as she thinks over my proposition. "I always wanted John to be the one to teach him, but the bastard doesn't know how to swim himself!"

I smile, already knowing this since Jack let it slip. "I can teach John at the same time. They'll both learn."

An evil look crosses Abigail's features after I say that. "You get John to learn, and you can teach Jack too."

I laugh, agreeing to her terms. "You've got a deal."

I look around the camp, trying to find the man himself. I see Jack over behind Dutch's tent playing fetch with Cain, but I can't seem to find John. 

"Hey Tilly, have you seen John?" I ask. She was sewing a hole in a shirt closed and pauses to look up at me. "Last I saw he was over with Javier. Over by the horses." I wave at her as I head off in that direction. 

Sure enough Javier and John are conversing while Javier is saddling up his horse. I'm not sure what it is he's going to do but I need to talk with Mr. Marston before he decides to accompany the other man. 

"John!" I call out, and they both stop talking to look over at me. Javier smiles at me while John's features flatten. Great start. 

"I'll talk to you later, John." Javier tips his hat at me and mounts his horse, taking off. 

"What do you want?" John crosses his arms, staring down at me. 

I take a deep breath in. "I want to teach Jack how to swim." 

John looks slightly surprised. "You know how to swim?"

I wave my arms. "What? Do women not know how to swim here?" He shakes his head. "Yes, I know how to swim. I thought that Jack should learn too, so that we don't have a repeat of..." I trail off, averting my gaze to the side. He knows what I'm talking about without me having to finish the sentence.

"Then teach him, I don't care. Abigail's the one you gotta worry about." He starts walking away but I step in his path. 

"Abigail said I can teach him, but on one condition."

"What's that?"

I lower my voice, not wanting to embarrass him by having someone overhear our conversation. "I have to teach you as well."

John scoffs, rolling his eyes and pushing past me. "Absolutely not. I ain't havin' no girl teach me to swim."

"John!" I say, some anger from his comment dripping into my tone. He stops, turning back to me and shaking his head. "This is for your  _son_. What if Arthur isn't there next time something happens? What if I'm not there to bring him back from the brink of death?"

John's features tighten as he frowns at me. His lip twitches as he fights not to spew what I'm guessing are some nasty words at me. I step forward, holding my hands up in a calming gesture. It's ridiculous that I have to talk to a man like a  _toddler_ , but if it's to save a little boy's life then I'll do it.

"How about a compromise? You don't have to get in the water, just watch us. Jack is excited to learn, and even if you don't get in there yourself you'll at least pick something up by simply being there." I know that John's distaste for me isn't helping my case any, which is a shame. Arthur and Dutch seem to be pretty close, and I would like to be on the good side of as many people in this camp as possible. 

Except for Micah's. Don't care if I'm on his good side. 

"I just want to make sure that Jack will be okay, and Abigail wants  _you_ to be okay."

We look at each other for a few seconds. His jaw clenches as he stares me down, trying to find some ulterior motive or something along the lines of that. 

"I'll  _watch_." He finally says, and I feel myself relax. "But I ain't gettin' in."

I shake my head. "You don't have to unless you want to."

He shakes his head, though I think he's more agitated with himself than me. "Just let me know when--if I ain't busy I'll come." 

I smile as he walks back to camp and straight up to Abigail. She looks at me as he starts talking animatedly about something. She has a grin on her face though, so I'm guessing she isn't too upset with whatever it is he's saying. 

I want to show Jack as soon as possible, but it's still kind of chilly out most of the time, and I need to watch Arthur for the next couple days at least. Maybe next week I'll start, and until then hopefully John will become better acquainted with the idea of it. 

Fingers crossed.

* * *

"Afternoon, Arthur." I duck into the tent, a sandwich and cup of water in my hands. "Are you feeling any bett--"

I drop the water onto the ground, letting it spill everywhere. I let out a choked noise, turning on my heel and promptly exiting the tent. My ears are positively  _burning_ , and I let out a cough as I shuffle over to Miss Grimshaw's tent and stand there, trying to process what it is I just saw. 

For some unknown reason, Arthur was out of bed.  _Naked_. Nothing on but the bandages I wrapped around his body. Thankfully he was facing away from me so I didn't see too much, but I did get a good look at his ass. And I am somewhat  _disgusted_ with myself that I stared at it for so long. One would think that after sitting on a saddle for so long that they would have a flat ass, but no sir. I've said it once and I'll say it again, Arthur Morgan is a  _very_ attractive man.

_Get a hold of yourself,_ I chastise, closing my eyes and trying to block the images out of my head.  _You've seen naked men before. What you saw is nothing new_.

Only...it was new. This was Arthur Morgan's naked body you saw, if only the back half. He's a tall man with broad shoulders and lean legs, his stature high and powerful. He's at least six foot two, if not taller. The muscles in his back seems to be carved there, the scars not only showing how much he's gone through in his years but also making him overall more attractive. He's slightly hairy, but not too much. He's pale as all  _hell_ but that's from wearing nothing but long-sleeved shirts all the time. The only dark thing on him is around his neck and arms. 

And damn, if I'm not attracted to him. I guess one good thing about seeing that is how the image of a man bleeding out on the ground is now gone from my head. Instead it's replaced with a naked Arthur. 

Is that a good thing?

A cough behind me draws my attention and I whirl around to find Arthur standing there, wearing only pants with the suspenders hanging down at his sides, the wrapping on his chest acting as a shirt. He looks about as embarrassed as I am as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. He isn't looking at me directly, instead choosing to glance around the camp. 

"You... I didn't know..." He begins, and I can tell he's struggling for words. 

Remembering that I was bringing him food I hold out the sandwich that's still in my hands. "Uh, here. I was bringing you lunch."

His eyes flicker down to my hands and he lowers his hand to take it from me. I fold my arms across my chest, still feeling extremely flustered. 

"Thank you," he says, briefly looking me in the eye before lifting the food and taking a bite. The silence that stretches between us isn't quite awkward, but there's definitely tension. My eyes drift to look at his wound unconsciously and that's when I remember that I didn't tell him he couldn't get out of bed. 

"What are you doing?" Some of the discomfort I'm feeling melts away into irritation. "I didn't tell you that you could get up."

He swallows the food in his mouth, a crease forming between his brows. "I weren't just goin' ta lay there with no clothes on."

I turn him around and steer him back to his tent. I notice some people watching the interaction between the two of us with amusement, Mary-Beth and Tilly grinning at the two of us like the children they are. I push him back inside and let the flap close behind me, blocking out the nosy eyes of the others.

I point a finger at the messily made bed, narrowing my gaze. "Down." He goes to argue with me but I glare at him and he shuts his mouth, sitting down. He continues to eat the sandwich, if not a little grumpily. 

I look at the cup that I dropped and sigh, bending down and picking it up. "I'll be back," I grumble, going outside and walking over to get more water. Pearson watches as I ladle more water out and then carry it back to Arthur. He's finishing the sandwich when I step back in, taking the cup from me when I hold it out. His eyes lock with mine as he drinks it all at once, handing it back after it's empty. I sit down in the chair that I occupied last night after Arthur's...episode.

We stare at each other for a few moments, some unspoken look in his eye. He finally stretches out on the bed and stares at the top of the tent as he folds his hands over his stomach. 

"Thank you, again."

"You already thanked me for your food."

"No," his voice lowers as his eyes flicker over to me, "thank you for last night. You didn' have to help me like that."

Oh. "What kind of doctor would I be if I didn't take care of my patients?"

He raises a brow. "You take care of all your patients like that? Makes me feel real special." The corner of his mouth pulls upwards slightly. 

I roll my eyes, shaking my head but smiling anyway. 

"You never did tell me where ya went," he folds his arms behind his head, "Susan has nothin' on your bedside manner."

I flush under the compliment but push it away. "I went... out for a bit."

His eyes narrow as he easily picks up on how I avoid answering his question. I don't want to tell him that we went to get his things because for some reason I don't think he'll react nicely about it. 

His eyes pierce mine as he tries to search for an answer, before looking behind me at something. He sits up slowly, a frown forming on his face as he looks back and forth between whatever it is I'm sitting in front of. 

"Lily," his voice is low and accent coming out thick, "do you know how my bow got back? And my guns?"

I can't stop my eyes from widening as I remember that I left them on his table last night. I clear my throat, trying to play it off but Arthur has already put two and two together and reached four before I can open my mouth. 

"Tell me ya didn't." He grits his teeth together, an anger like I've never seen on his face. 

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

He swings his legs off the side of the bed and grabs my hands in his own, holding them tightly as he stares deeply at me. I see now that it's not only anger in his eyes--it's also concern. I try not to let that fact affect me too much. 

And fail miserably.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you!" His voice steadily rises with each word. I close my eyes, not wanting to see his reacting right now. 

"Look at me," He orders, and when I don't he lowers his voice, shaking my hands in his slightly, "Lily, look at me."

I do listen that time, afraid of how he's going to react. "I'd do it again, Arthur Morgan."

He looks at me, flabbergasted. His eyes flicker back and forth between my own. He doesn't know what to say, and I can tell that I've genuinely surprised him. 

"Sadie, Charles, Lenny and I did it. I didn't go by myself--I'm not an idiot."

"You're a damn  _fool_ for goin' in the first place." He shakes his head softly. "You four went into an O'Driscoll camp, and for what? An old man's things that can be  _replaced?"_

I frown at him, leaning forward slightly. "You're the one who told me you were upset about leaving your things behind. Sadie was more than willing to go and kill some of those people, and Charles and Lenny were happy to help you out. You don't realize it Arthur, but there are people who actually  _care_ about you here. People who want you to be happy and were  _upset_ that you were hurt by them!" I take my hands out of his, leaning away from him. "Besides, I also got a friend out of it. His name's Chewbacca."

Arthur's face scrunches up. "The hell kinda name is that?!"

I let out a noise of frustration, throwing my hands up and storming out of his tent. He calls my name but I ignore him, walking straight for the horses. 

"Lily, just wait--"

I walk up to Chewie and climb in the saddle, looking down to where Arthur followed me. He stops as I settle in my seat, looking astonished. 

_"This_ is Chewie," I tell him, rubbing the neck of the horse before gripping the reigns in my hands and turning the horse away from Arthur. I look back over my shoulder at him and gesture to the back of my horse. 

_That feels nice,_ I think, _my horse_.

"If you're not going to listen to me and rest, then you're coming into town with me. You need a good bath."

He shuts his mouth and glares at me as Karen and Abigail break out in giggles from where they were watching us. He sends a look their way and they stop, pretending they weren't listening as they go back to their chores. 

He mumbles something before shaking his head. "Let me go put a shirt on--"

"I'll get you one in town," I interrupt, giving him a tight smile and gesturing to Winston. "Mount up, cowboy."

* * *

Okay, so I won't lie. Arthur probably thinks that I didn't let him go get a shirt because I was impatient, but the truth is that staring at his bare chest is a gift and damn if I'm not going to try to look at it a little longer. 

We don't say anything as we ride into town but I do catch him staring at me and Chewie a few times. Winston a few hands taller than my horse and I get the feeling that deep down Arthur is happy he has a stronger horse than I do. Little does he know that it's usually the smaller ones that are faster. 

We stop the horses in front of the general store and I'm already walking up to the door by the time Arthur gets off Winston. I'm once more reminded that Arthur is still an injured man and I need to take it easier on him. Slow down to a pace that he can keep up with. 

I walk up to the back of the store where I saw the tent supplies earlier, picking out the basics before lugging them to the front of the store. Arthur tries to help me but I shoo him away with a stern look. "You can pick up heavy things when you can move faster than Uncle." And that was the end of that conversation.

I open the catalog and flip to the shirts, already knowing what I had in mind. I pick out a simple button-up maroon shirt, having the cashier get it out for Arthur to try on. He gives me a questioning glance but goes along with it, trying a few on until he gets the right size. Once he has it on I nod, loving the way it looks on him and adding it to my tab. 

We go back outside and I load up Chewie with my new tent supplies, throwing some of the extras on the back of Winston. Once I'm done I turn to Arthur and clap my hands together, walking to the hotel. 

"Time for a bath." 

* * *

I'm currently seated outside of where Arthur's taking his bath. He went in a few minutes ago and I told him that I would just wait until he was done. I really just wanted to go get the tent supplies but while we're here Arthur needed a good bath--not only because he was starting to smell like a sick patient, but because it would be good for him to sit on hot water for a while. Help soothe his aches and pains. 

"Oh," a light voice causes me to look up at the young woman who just spoke, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you already had this one."

"What?" I ask, confused. I stand up, towering over her slightly. She's wearing a dress, her brown hair pulled up high on her head. 

"The deluxe bath? This man ordered it, so I'm told. Isn't that what you're here for?"

Arthur got the deluxe bath? I wasn't there when he ordered it. I paid for it so I feel like I would remember something like that, but whatever. What is the deluxe bath anyway?

My face flushes as I remember. A woman goes in to help Arthur bathe. This woman probably thought that she was going to do it but saw me there and assumed I already had him. I go to tell her he's all hers when I stop, a weird feeling overtaking me. If I let her go in then that means she would be washing him, touching him. I don't like how that thought makes me feel. And I don't like that I know it's me being  _jealous_.

"I, uh, yeah. I got this one, don't worry." I tell her, wiping my hands on my pants and giving her a forced smile before opening the door behind me and slipping in. She walks back down the hallway, leaving me to it. 

"Lily?" Arthur's confused voice asks, and I shut the door, leaning my back against it. He sits up in the tub, hands gripping the sides tightly as he stares at me. 

"Nothing's wrong," I reassure him and he nods slowly, leaning back carefully in the tub. I notice that the bandages that covered his shoulder are resting on top of his clothes on a chair in the corner. "Apparently you ordered a deluxe bath and some woman was going to come in here."

Arthur raises a brow at me. "Why didn't you let her?"

I feel taken aback. "You  _wanted_ her in here?" A rush of annoyance runs through me. I didn't think that Arthur would... that he... "Fine. I'll just go get her."

"Lily," Arthur says when I put my hand on the doorknob, "I'd rather have you than some random woman." I turn around, stunned. "But I ain't gonna ask you to do somethin' ya ain't comfortable with."

My mouth runs dry. Arthur wants  _me_ to do it? A part of me feels like I should be upset that this full-grown man can't take a bath without some woman's help, but the bigger part is telling me I should be...flattered. Arthur wants me to do it. And he was shot just a few days ago, so this is probably a good time of when he  _should_ ask for help. I stand there for a few seconds, debating on what I should do. Arthur watches me carefully, and I can see that  _look_ on his face again. The look we shared in the tent when there was that feeling building between us. 

"Alright," I say quietly, stepping forward to kneel beside him. I roll up my sleeves to my elbows, sinking my hands into the warm water of the tub. Arthur swallows, his look so intense it nearly takes my breath away. "I'll help you."


	14. Baths and Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. You guys have some serious opinions about Mary Linton LMAO. I read all of them and it's swayed between if she's included or not. Personally, I am not a fan of Mary. Just because of how she used our poor Arthur. I also can't blame her for her decisions, though, because I probably would have done the same thing. So maybe I'll just mention her if anything? I feel like she has to be included someway--she was a big part of Arthur's past life. I feel like Lily would understand Mary, anyway. Who knows?
> 
> I wanted to tell you guys that the reason I write and update so frequently is because I'm currently on winter break of college. My spring semester will start on the 7th, so I'm trying to write as much as possible until then because I know the updates won't be as often. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! Love it so much!
> 
> Question: Besides Arthur, who is your favorite character? I might have asked this before, not sure (oops). I love Sadie. She was my favorite. I knew that when I went on a mission with her I was in capable hands lmao.
> 
> ALSO thank you to Omuyev for bringing it to my attention that Jack is actually 4 in the game and not 6. I'm too lazy to go back and fix it in my previous chapters though, so for my story I guess he's going to be 6. I apologize if this bothers anyone!

The steam rising from the water in the tub isn't the only hot thing in this room right now. My face is heated as I swish some of the soapy water around, gently taking Arthur's arm and lifting it out of the water. I rub my hands up and down his skin, feeling the goosebumps that rise under my touch. The sinewy muscles there are tight, and I see that his head is tilted back with his eyes closed. His jaw is clenched tightly as he breathes deeply. He can't be comfortable right now. 

I remove my hands, leaning back on my heels. He cracks an eye open after a few seconds of nothing happening and looks at me. 

"What's wrong?" His voice is gruff as he asks this and he has to clear his throat when he's done speaking.

"Are you okay? You don't seem very... relaxed."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head. "Oh, darlin'," the way his mouth curls around the term of endearment stirs something inside me, "if only you knew how good it feels what you're doin'."

There's a tight feeling in my chest as we stare at one another. I try to swallow but my mouth is so dry right now. "I've barely touched you."

"I know."

There's another moment of silence, some unspoken and heavy thing hanging between us. I know that the water isn't going to stay hot forever so I take a deep breath and lean forward again, reaching into the water to tap on his knee. Thankfully there are bubbles on the surface so I can't see anything  _too_ scandalous but the thought that just a brush away is something that I've only thought about will feed my fantasies for years to come. 

Arthur lifts his leg out of the water, spilling some over the edge in the process. I wash it, sliding down from his ankle to his knee and then into the water down his thigh. I try not to go too far, but just a few inches down Arthur takes in a sharp breath and I stop. He's staring at me, head tilted back slightly. I finish his leg and help him lower it back into the water. I reach over the edge of the tub, doing the same to his other arm and leg. He relaxes more into the tub the longer this lasts and at one point when I look up he seems almost like he's fallen asleep. 

"Alright, lean forward so I can get your back." I tell him, and he blinks his eyes open as he does so. His spine arches as he folds inwards, both hands gripping the sides of the tub. I move around to his back and stare at the scars for a moment. There are just so  _many_. Some of them big, but most of them are tiny. Some are even circular, reminding me of cigarette burns. I've treated those on kids before, and I know that not only are they painful, but they're more mentally scarring than anything. 

My fingers trace over some of the marks without me even thinking about it. He stiffens at my touch at first before letting out a sigh, leaning back into it even more. I reach down and scoop up some of the water, letting it cascade down his back until it's wet enough that I can wash it. I take tender care of his left shoulder, knowing that even though the gun wound is in the front he'll still be tender in the back. I massage his back like I did all those nights ago, smiling as he lets out groans of pleasure under my hands. 

It's very nice to know that a woman like me can reduce big and strong Arthur Morgan to a puddle. 

I finish with his back and move up to his hair, scrubbing my fingernails into his scalp as I get the grime and dirt out. He tilts his head backwards, trying to make me scratch at different parts. I let out a soft laugh as his mouth falls open partially while I do this. 

"God damn, woman." He moans, "you should forget about bein' a doctor and be a wash lady."

I raise a brow. "You want me to wash naked men for a living?"

He's silent for a moment. "Forget I said anythin'."

I laugh loudly this time, my hands stilling on his head momentarily. I see that he's also smiling, his eyes nearly rolled up into his head to try to get a glimpse of me. I finish with his hair, letting him rinse it out before I move to his other side. 

"Alright, now let's see how that wound is healing." I say more to myself than to him. I frown as I press my fingers lightly on the stitches I gave him. There's only about four of them there since the wound itself wasn't that big, it's the internal part that I was most worried about. I feel him wince as I press too hard and I remove my hand immediately. "Well, it's still got a long way to go, but you'll live."

He snorts, leaning back against the tub again as I begin to wash his chest. My hands run across his pecs, and I feel his fast heartbeat beneath them. I trace paths up to his collarbones and then his shoulders, swooping up to wash around his neck. When I go to wash his abdomen he suddenly grabs my wrist, but does it gently. I look at him in confusion, noticing how tense his features are. 

"I, uh, I can get that." The words come out somewhat forced between his teeth. 

"Oh, okay." I take my hands away and dry them off on the towel sitting on the small table. I stand up and brush my hands together, looking around somewhat awkwardly. "I guess I'll just leave you to finish. I'll be outside when you're done."

I'm almost to the door when he stops me. "The ladies usually give a kiss goodbye," he sounds cheeky again. 

I feel my face flush and turn around and find he's smirking at me. I roll my eyes but walk back anyway, brush his wet hair off his forehead and lean down to press a kiss there. It feels like he leans into it slightly but the moment is over before I can really tell.

"Thank you again," he says quietly as he stares up at me. I wave a hand. 

"I've basically already seen you completely naked. It was no big deal." I give him one last look over my shoulder, noticing how his face turns red before leaving the room. I shut the door and lean against it, letting out a breath. 

Well then. 

* * *

"You look good," I tell him when he finally leaves the wash room. And he does. He's clean, his hair is combed back and he's in that maroon shirt I picked out? Damn. Tall, dark and handsome. I purse my lips as I notice something else. "I'm surprised you didn't shave. I thought you didn't like facial hair."

Arthur rubs a hand over his jaw, touching the area. "Thought I'd try somethin' different. People didn't care for it, apparently." He sends a wink my way and brushes past towards the exit. 

"Arthur Morgan," I tease as I walk after him, "did you shave for me?"

He turns his head away from me. "Don't shave for nobody but myself." 

"Hmm, but you'll grow it back because someone said they liked it?"

This time he does look at me, and he chuckles at the smug look on my face. "Might consider it."

"Must be one lucky lady."

"Who said it was a lady?" He holds the door to the hotel open and we slip out into the daylight. We walk over to where our horses are hitched, climbing up into the saddles. 

"So you're growing it for a man?"

He shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance. "Maybe."

"Well," I say as we start heading out of town and back to camp, "must be one lucky man then."

He laughs again, reaching down and pulling his hat out of one of Winston's bags. "He sure is."

The ride back is enjoyable. We make small conversation, talking about some of the things that have been happening in the camp. I tell him that I'm going to teach Jack and John how to swim and he laughs, nearly spooking Winston with how loud he is. He goes on to tell me that John has never wanted to learn how to swim and that it'll take some serious dedication to even think of getting that man in the water without a boat. Challenge accepted. 

"I gotta ask ya somethin'," Arthur says a few minutes after we've stopped talking. We're not far from camp but we're not in any hurry to get back, simply enjoying one another's company. 

"Okay," I say, "shoot."

He clears his throat. "You told me a long time ago that you wasn't runnnin' from nothin', and that you didn't have no problems back home." He glances over at me, curious but serious at the same time. 

He's asking about my home life? I haven't even thought of them in so long that for a while there I forgot I even had another life. My friends and family back home in a whole other universe. Am I even still there? Did I die in my sleep and that's how I ended up here? Or am I in a coma? 

"Lily?" Arthur's voice draws me back to the moment. He's watching me again and seems somewhat troubled. "You okay? You left me there."

"Sorry," I tell him, "I just got a little homesick for a minute. You had a question?"

Arthur frowns. "If bringin' up ya past is gonna upset ya then I won't say nothin--"

"No! No, really ask away. I'm fine." I reassure, giving him a sincere look. He thinks for a moment before nodding. 

"Alright," he says quietly, "well I wanted to know if... ya had someone back home. In Pennsylvania."

"What? Like parents or a sibling?" I'm acting dense on purpose--if Arthur is trying to ask me something I want him to spit it out. "I have a mom and dad, but they live in Wyoming with my brother. My sister married some big dairy man and moved to Maryland. I grew up in Pennsylvania so I stayed there for my job."

"No, not that." Arthur coughs into the back of his hand, turning away from me for a moment. He holds the reigns in one hand, the other resting on his thigh as he rides Winston close to Chewie. "I mean, do you have a beau or somethin'?"

"Actually, I'm married." My voice is quiet and I look to the ground. "I'm sure he's searching for me. I miss him terribly."

Arthur's mouth nearly falls to the ground. "You're married?!" 

I can't pretend any longer. I just love teasing Arthur but he looks genuinely upset. I let out a laugh, clutching my side as I throw my head back. I shake my head, looking over at him. He hasn't caught on yet and still looks like a puppy who was just kicked. 

"I'm not married, you dingus." I get out between my giggles. "I don't have a 'beau' or anything of the sort. Back home I don't even have time to think of anything of the sort."

I watch the realization smack Arthur straight in the face. His features relax before they turn down in irritation. "That was a cruel joke, Miss Lily."

"Oh, don't go back to calling me that, now." I tell him, wiping the tears out of the corners of my eyes. 

"What's a 'dingus'?" He asks, glaring at me. "You use some words that I ain't ever heard of before."

"You, you're a dingus." I respond, laughing once more when he just frowns more. "Don't worry, I usually save most of my insults for Micah. That man is a motherfucker."

Arthur's mouth drops open, sounds that aren't exactly words coming out. "What the  _hell_ \--"

My smile grows wider and I start laughing again. "It's a bad insult. It doesn't really mean what you might think."

"I know Micah ain't a good man, but I don't think he would--"

"Don't even finish that sentence," I interrupt him before he can continue. He stares at me for a few seconds before he finally starts to smile himself, chuckling as he shakes his head at me. 

"You're somethin' else, Lily Edwards. You know that?" 

"I wouldn't be me otherwise." I wink at him and urge Chewie to go faster until we're galloping the rest of the way to camp. A look over my shoulder shows that Arthur is close behind on Winston, smiling as he tries to get past me. One hand is holding his hat on top of his head to make sure it doesn't blow away in the wind while he's pressed low against the horse's back. I grin at him, facing forward again and also lowering myself so that I can help Chewie get as much speed as possible. 

I win the race, though if he let me win or not I'll never know.

* * *

"Why won't ya let me just  _help_ ya already?" Arthur grumbles from where he's sitting. He didn't to just lay down again and he does seem to be better but I told him that he wasn't allowed to move around too much. He's lucky that I'm even letting him up and out of bed in the first place. As soon as we got back I went and talked to Miss Grimshaw. I thanked her for letting me stay in her tent with her but informed her that I had bought my own things. She was very nice about it but I could tell she was happy to have her own area back to herself. 

I stand up from where I was shoving a post into the ground, letting out a puff of air to try to blow away the hair that's dangling in front of my face. "I  _got_ it." I say, trying not to take my irritation out on him. "You're not supposed to be moving around that much, let alone setting up a tent."

"Says who?"

I drop my hammer onto the ground, facing him and planting my hands on my hips. "Me. Your  _doctor_."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't argue with me, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms. "Fine, I'll just enjoy the show then." 

My face heats. "Arthur Morgan--"

"Maybe I can help," I look over to see Hosea walking over, an amused look on his face. "I've set up plenty of tents in my day. This shouldn't be too hard."

"I've never had to put one of these up before," I grumble, embarrassed that I have to get help like some child. 

"Aw, it's fine." Hosea brushes it off. "Kinda miss things like this. My wife and I used to go camping all the time--we loved to look at the stars at night, a warm fire nearby." Hosea gets a faraway look in his eyes. I know that Hosea's wife isn't here with us, so I'm guessing she's gone. I feel bad for the old man. He seems like he was a very good husband. 

"Bessie was a lovely woman, Hosea." Arthur says softly. Hosea nods, bending down and picking up one of the posts. We decided to set up my tent just off to the side of Miss Grimshaw's since it was the only free place big enough. 

"Hand me that hammer, will you?" Hosea asks and gestures to the hammer I dropped when I was yelling at Arthur. I bend over and pick it up, placing it in the man's outstretched hand. He begins to pound the post into the ground a few times until it seems sturdy enough. 

"What have we got goin' on over here?" Micah saunters over, hands resting on his hips and pulling his coat away so that he's flashing his guns at us. My mood sours instantly. 

"Helping Lily here set up her tent." Hosea explains as he picks up another post. 

"Does that mean she's going to be with us  _permanently_?" He sends a sneer in my direction. 

" _She_ is right here." I bite back at him. I hold the piece of wood steady as Hosea once more starts to pound it into the ground. 

Micah lets out a groan, shaking his head. "I've told Dutch that we don't need no more mouths to feed. In fact, we could do with losing a few."

"Hey now," Arthur pushes up from his chair, moving to stand between Micah and I, "Lily is one of us. If anyone's leaving it would be you."

I feel a flutter in my chest at his words. 

Micah holds up his hands in surrender. "I ain't sayin' that we  _have_ to get rid of people, I'm just warning you. Too many people just puts a bigger target on our backs. We don't need that right now."

"The only reason we even  _have_ a target is because you fucked up in Blackwater!" Arthur growls, his hands balling into his fists at his sides. 

"Arthur--" Hosea looks up, trying to dissolve the situation but Micah opens his mouth again. 

"I ain't the only one who was there, cowpoke." Micah loses some of his relaxed stance. "Maybe if you had actually  _been_ there and hadn't left Dutch and I with them darkies--"

"Woah." I interrupt, forgetting about my tent for a moment and stepping around Arthur, feeling him put a warning hand on my back. " _What_ did you just say?"

"Why don't you just go back to playin' doctor and leave the real talk for the men? Huh?" Micah snarls down at me. 

I point a finger in his face. "Call my friends a derogatory name  _one more time_ and I will cut your dick off with a butter knife." 

Micah smacks my finger away and I see red. I launch myself at him, ready to claw the man's eyes out when Arthur wraps his arms around my stomach and holds me back. Micah steps back in surprise, but once he reacts he's ready to fight. 

_"What_ is going on around here!" Dutch's voice shouts, breaking somewhat as he speaks at such a loud volume. 

"She's crazy, Dutch." Micah instantly tries to defend himself. 

_"He_ is a racist man who eats horseshit for breakfast!" I yell, trying to pry Arthur's arms off of me so I can reach the sack of shit. 

"Micah!" Dutch scolds, facing the grease ball. "Are you bothering Miss Lily?"

"I came over to try to start a friendly conversation and I got nothing but hostility in return!"

"Micah is trying to stir things up, Dutch." Arthur growls from above me. I give up trying to break free. He's too strong for me to even possibly think of breaking out. His arms loosen somewhat when I stop moving but he still holds me tight against his chest. 

"I did no such thing!" Micah tries to defend himself, but he knows that with Hosea and Arthur to back me up he has no chance of winning this argument. He throws his hands in the air and walks away, hopefully to go drown in the lake. 

"I apologize, Lily." Dutch turns back to me. "I know that you and Micah don't get along, and I'm sorry. I know it can be hard to see past his exterior but Micah has good intentions."

"Good intentions?" I ask, frowning at the older man. "He said that I should  _leave_. That some other people should leave as well. Is that what you want, Dutch? Do you want to break up your family?"

Dutch seems somewhat thrown off by my questioning. He's probably never had someone ask him point blank things like that before, always afraid to get on his bad side. 

"You're right. I don't want to break up my family. We stick together, that's what Van Der Linde's  _do_. I'll talk with him, try to make him see some sense." Dutch looks around at the mess scattered around us. "Nice to see that you are finally finding a spot among us." And with that he turns and walks off in the direction that Micah left. 

I sigh, dropping my head down to my chest. I hold tightly onto Arthur's arms around me, needing them to ground me for a moment. After a few seconds I let go, expecting him to do the same. 

"You can let go now, Arthur. I'm not going after him."

He hesitates for just a moment before sliding his hands away from me, his fingertips lingering on my sides a second too long. He sighs and walks back over to his chair, sitting down and putting his chin in his hand. 

"Now," Hosea claps his hands together, "where were we?"

* * *

Later that night majority of us are gathered around the campfire, eating Pearson's dinner and conversing. I'm telling Tilly and Karen about how I got Chewie, making sure to leave out...certain details. They still seem interested, though Karen leaves once a tipsy Sean starts whispering in her ear. Tilly rolls her eyes at the two of them and scoots closer to me, wanting to hear more. I'm more than happy to tell her. 

"Arthur!" Dutch looks up from the log he's seated on. Molly pouts as she loses the man's attention even for a split second. "So glad to see you out and about."

I turn to see Arthur coming from where I had  _told_ him to be resting in his tent. He scoots past Uncle passed out on the ground and sits beside me. He quirks a challenging brow at me when I send a glare his way. 

"I thought that I told you to stay in bed." 

"Did ya?" He asks, reaching across the way and taking a bottle from Javier. "Don't recall."

I let out a tired sigh, ready to start arguing with him,  _again_. I was fine with taking him to town to bathe--he needed that. Then he wanted to be up a little longer? That's fine, so I let him watch Hosea and I put my tent up. Which it  _is_ up now. Though Micah's presence threw off our rhythm a little bit we were able to quickly get back in the swing of things. My tent isn't too big, maybe a little smaller than Miss Grimshaw's. But it holds my few possessions nicely and I have enough room for a real bed. I just have to buy one of those first, so I'll settle for my bedroll for now. What's another month?

"Hey," Arthur lowers his voice so that only I can hear, "I'm  _fine_. I need ta see my people. I'm like a stallion--can't keep me cooped up forever or I'll go stir crazy."

I snort, trying to see if he's being serious. There's a gleam in his eye that shows me he's not--or at least not completely. 

"You? A  _stallion_? I'll believe it when I see it."

"Alright," he smirks, raising the bottle to his lips, "just wait. I'll show ya one day." He tips his head back and drinks but never breaks eye contact. My insides twist with the implication behind his words.

The moment is broken when Javier begins to pluck a few strings on his guitar. I look over, mesmerized as the man begins to tune the instrument. Once it's good enough he clears his throat and starts to strum a chord. The song is in spanish so I don't know what it is he's saying (god I wish I took more spanish in college) but it sounds like it's about a lost love. The song is in a minor key, giving it a somber mood. Everyone stops talking to listen to him play and sing. It's beautiful. 

When he's done we clap, some of the drunker members whooping and hollering. I laugh, feeling the positive mood surrounding me and holding tight. In the time I've been here I've found it rare that we all can be like this--sitting around and talking and enjoying one another's company. Usually there's someone out trying to get more money, hunting, or doing who knows what. Right now? Nobody has been gone since I got back with Charles, Lenny, and Sadie. Even Micah is here, even though he might be sulking over by the picnic table like a creep. 

"Sing us another one," Miss Grimshaw motions towards Javier. He seems to think for a moment before settling on a song. 

Apparently everyone knows it. After he says the first few words people start to laugh and wave their drinks side to side. Dutch, Uncle, and Bill join in on the singing. It's some old song that makes no sense to me but apparently makes them very happy. 

"Drink!" Tilly says over everyone's voices, shoving her alcohol in my face. I lean back, shaking my head with a laugh. 

"I don't really drink--"

"Oh, come on! Just tonight, loosen up a bit!"

I look between her and the poorly labeled bottle of brandy. I never really had time to go out and drink with friends back home. I was either at work or at home, resting. And when I wasn't resting I was trying to do something that  _I_ wanted to do, not something stupid that my friends thought would be fun. I drank a lot back in college, but that was a long time ago. 

"Alright," I acquiesce, taking the bottle hesitantly and sipping it. The first bit of liquid burns my throat, causing my eyes to water as I cough slightly.  _"Jesus,_ " I hold the thing in the light to try to read the ingredients. 

"It ain't that bad! C'mon, more!" Tilly pushes up on the bottom of the bottle so it's once more level with my mouth. I shrug, tipping it back and trying not to gag as a good few swallows go down my throat. I eventually have to stop for air, coughing violently and handing it back to her. She laughs as she removes it from my hands before I have the chance to throw it into the fire. 

"That was mighty impressive," Arthur chuckles, tipping his own bottle back. I wipe my eyes as I glance over at him. There's a mischievous look in his eye that does something to me. 

"Thanks. Learned it in college."

"You went to college?" He asks.

I wink at him, beginning to sway with Tilly as I feel the familiar burn build in my stomach. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Arthur Morgan."

He leans close, his lips nearly brushing my ear. "Guess I'll just have to find it out somehow, then." He pulls back and grins at me, raising his bottle before beginning to join in with everyone else's singing. 

Even though I know I'm most likely going to end up getting horribly drunk tonight, it's okay. I'll deal with the hangover as long as I get to enjoy this moment a little longer. It's worth it.  


	15. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the two days without posting! I'm getting ready to go back to college so things have been a little hectic. I'm hoping that this chapter makes up for it, if at least a little bit... hehehe
> 
> I am kind of okay with how this turned out ? But I also know it could have been better so I apologize in advance for that. The next chapter will be out in a few days, so stay tuned! Love you guys!
> 
> Question: what are some ideas of a scene you would like to read? Maybe Lily and Arthur go hunting? Or they run into the Pinkertons or O'Driscolls? Help me not reach writer's block LMAO

When I wake up the next morning, I'm warm and comfortable. It's a pleasant change from the way I've been waking up the past couple of weeks, but I'm confused. Why am I suddenly feeling this way?

I pry my eyes open to try to see what's different. The first thing I see is a table straight across from me, a bow laden across the top of it. 

 _That's odd? I don't have a table in my tent. Or a bow for that matter_. 

There's a grunt behind me and I feel something shift. I tense up, suddenly realizing that  _someone is in bed with me_. Or rather, I'm in someone  _else's_ bed. I look down, feeling myself relax somewhat when I see that I'm still wearing all my clothes. That's good at least. The other thing I see is a muscled arm slung across my waist, the hand tucked a little beneath me to keep me still. I had one of my arms resting on top of the arm but withdraw it immediately, lifting up off the bed to see who the owner of the body part is. 

I relax when I see it's just Arthur behind me. In fact, I now see that it's Arthur's tent that I'm in. The only difference is that we're laying on the bed in the opposite direction he normally does, so our feet are resting on his pillow. That explains why my head was laying on the bicep of his other appendage. I sit up a little more to get a good look at the sleeping man. He's pressed tightly against my back, and as I move around his arm on my waist tightens. His features pull down in a frown at my movements but then relax once I cease. He's also wearing all his clothes, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief. 

 _Okay,_ I think to myself,  _so we didn't do anything. But how the hell did I end up in bed with_ Arthur _of all people?_

Arthur grumbles something and tugs on my waist again, pulling me closer and forcing me to return to the position where I'm partially laying on him. He breathes against my neck, the air tickling me slightly. He nuzzles his nose at the skin there before settling and beginning to snore softly. His knees are pressed to the backs of mine, and I can't help but laugh gently as I realize that Arthur Morgan is just a giant teddy bear. 

I'll file that information away for later. 

I should go back to my tent and leave Arthur here alone, but it feels  _nice_ to be on a real bed, and Arthur is warm. We aren't even wearing a blanket; he just naturally projects that much heat. The sun has barely begun to rise through the tent, so I decide that I'll stay here for a little bit longer. I'll spoil myself, but I should go soon. Besides, there's a pleasant tingling in my belly that hasn't gone away since I saw that it was Arthur I was sleeping with. I'm just glad it isn't one of the other guys. 

As I drift off back to sleep I think back to the night before and the events that could have possibly led to this moment. 

* * *

_"You're so pretty, Tilly." I giggle, reaching forward to trace a hand across the girl's smooth skin. "I wish that I looked like you."_

_Tilly laughs, placing her hand over my own. "You're so gone, Lily! And 'sides, you're the pretty one!"_

_I scoff, waving off her comment. She links her arm through my own and leads me back over to where the others are still drinking and singing songs with Javier. Karen raises her bottle in greeting, smiling at us as Sean comes forward and wraps an arm around her waist. He presses a kiss to the side of her head before stealing her drink and taking it as his own._

_"Karen!" Tilly calls, stopping the woman from shoving her tongue down the Irish man's throat like it looked she was about to do. "Lily here don't think she's pretty!"_

_I roll my eyes but laugh anyways. "I never said that!"_

_"Even a blind person would know that's a lie, Miss Edwards!" Sean answers, nodding his chin in my direction._

_"Watch it," Karen growls playfully. Sean winks down at her in response._

_"You know you're the only one for me." Sean leans down and kisses her this time, the bottle in his hand forgotten as he drops it in favor of grabbing a handful of her dress._

_"Move it along you two!" Miss Grimshaw comes up, shaking her head at the couple._

_The song that Javier is playing suddenly changes and Tilly lets out a gasp. "I love this song! Oh, Lily, you must dance with me!" Before I can respond she's already grabbed my hands and is pulling me off to the side, swinging the two of us around. Her laughter is infectious and only makes the moment better. I stop her after a minute, pressing one hand to my forehead._

_"I'm dizzy, Tilly. Not as young as I used to be." I joke. A yawn escapes me before I have the chance to stop it. She gets a knowing look in her eye._

_"I'll go see if Mary-Beth wants to dance, don't worry. You can't sleep yet, though. The night is still young!" And with that Tilly is walking off over to her friend's side, whispering something in her ear. I shake my head, walking over to a chair to sit down. I fold my arms over my chest, feeling the beginnings of the chilly night air begin to set into my skin. Contrary to what Tilly said, the night is_ not _young. It's well past midnight._

_Javier finishes his song and puts his guitar back in his tent, done for the night. He takes an offered drink from Uncle, finally joining in on the fun. Javier catches me watching him and sends a wink in my direction as he tips the bottle back. I smile, shaking my head at the man's flirtation. Dutch takes over and goes to his tent, putting on some of his music. It's slower but there's more to this music than was to Javier's. Molly walks up to Dutch, resting her hands on his shoulders while getting close to his ears to whisper something. Dutch grins and places his hands on her hips, letting her dance with him in the moonlight._

_"Miss Lily," I'm broken out of my staring by Arthur, who's currently standing just behind my chair. He's drunk, though less so than I am. He's probably used to drinking this stuff all the time so hes not phased by it. He isn't wearing his hat and his hair is brushed back on top of his head. "May I have this dance?"_

_I feel surprised and I know it shows on my face. He's smirking at me and I look slightly behind him to see Mary-Beth and Tilly watching us with smiles on. It suddenly all clicks._

_"Did those girls put you up to this?"_

_Arthur shrugs, glancing at them for one second before turning back to me. "They didn't suggest nothin' that I wasn't already thinkin' about."_

_I put my hand in his own, allowing him to help me to my feet. "Well, I'd hate to disappoint them."_

_Arthur grins at my words, helping me to stand before leading us over to a large area near Dutch and Molly. I see Dutch give Arthur a knowing look. Boys._

_Arthur suddenly gets a little shy, shifting from foot to foot as he stands in front of me. "I have ta warn ya, I don't know how to dance."_

_I give him a reassuring smile. "Guess we'll just have to stumble around together, then."_

_He gives me a small smile and takes my hand in his before resting the other one hesitantly on my waist. I can already see how this is going to go; middle school dancing._

_"No," I shake my head, taking my hand out of his, "where I'm from that's not how we do it."_ _I take his hands in mine, placing them around my waist where he rests them gently. I put mine on his shoulders and curl them around to his back. He seems uncomfortable at first, probably not expecting to be so handsy--at least handsy for him. Back home this is barely even petting. We start to sway in a circle. letting the beat of the music guide our feet. A mixture of Arthur standing so close and all the alcohol in my body is making me warm so the cold air that floats around us feels nice on my skin._

_"Apparently there was talk that you don' like the way ya look." Arthur breaks the silence._

_I smile up at him, shaking my head. "Those girls are putting words in my mouth. That's not what I said."_

_The corner of his mouth curls upwards. "Good ta know." He slides his hands further along my back, forcing me to step a tiny bit closer to him. "Saves me the job of provin' ya otherwise."_

_His words stir something inside me, and I know it's not the stuff Tilly had me drink. "Oh really?"_

_He hums, smiling down at me. The way he looks in the moonlight nearly takes my breath away. The fire in my veins gives me the courage to lean forward, resting my cheek on his chest as I wrap my arms around him. He tightens his arms and lets out a sigh, dropping his chin to sit on the crown of my head. I close my eyes, breathing in the woodsy and gun oil smell that I have come to associate with him. I feel happier in this moment than I have in a long time. Happy, safe, and secure._

_"Smell so good," I mumble, my words muffled by his shirt. "Look good, too. Shouldn't be legal."_

_"What?" Arthur seems taken off guard by my words._

_My eyes fly open as I realize that I said that_ out loud _. Those words weren't supposed to leave my head._

_He laughs after a few moments, just letting me snuggle deeper into his hold as I try to forget that I just said that. If he asks I'll just tell him I ramble when I'm drunk. Which isn't a lie, technically. I just usually ramble about things that have been stuck in my head for a while. But he doesn't need to know that._

_Another song plays on Dutch's record player, the four of us dancing into the night as the others finally begin to settle down to go to sleep. The fire blazes at the campfire as John and Charles are the last ones to remain, sitting and chatting idly with one another. Dutch and Molly stop dancing and Dutch walks over to stop the record player._

_As the music ceases I pull back from Arthur, feeling the comfortable and drowsy sensation that had been building all night begin to hit me at once. Arthur must notice because he doesn't release me from his arms, instead keeping me close by his side as we walk away from Dutch. I lean against him, closing my eyes as I trust the man to lead me to where I need to go._

_Arthur stops and I crack my eyes open to see him trying to help me lay down, but I don't let go of his shirtsleeve. He stops, trying to pry me off him with a chuckle. "Time for bed, Lily."_

_I can't help the whine that escapes me. "But you're_ warm _and I don't want to be_ cold _."_

 _I see Arthur's features soften and he looks at me for a moment, studying my features. "Alright," he says at last, his voice just above a whisper. He pulls me against him once more and we walk in a different direction. I shouldn't be doing this, because I don't know where he's taking me, but the only thing that I'm not okay with right now is that I have to keep_ walking _instead of just going to sleep. Besides, I trust Arthur with my life. I'm dead on my feet and he must notice because the longer we walk to more he ends up basically carrying me._

_"Lay down here," Arthur murmurs, and I don't even open my eyes I just throw myself on the bed in front of me. He chuckles and I feel him pushing me over. The bed dips behind me and I vaguely register Arthur climbing into bed as well. It's tiny but he fits, and with him being so close I feel the heat transfer somewhat over to me. "G'night, Lily."_

_I turn around, facing him and burrowing into his chest. I feel the rumble of his chest as he finds my moving around amusing. He doesn't touch me though, and i can't help but frown at that. Why won't he touch me? If I weren't so tired I would voice my concerns but instead I'm just going to go ahead and sleep off what I know is going to be a terrible hangover in the morning, and hope that I don't vomit on this man in my sleep._

_"Goodnight, Arthur."_

* * *

The next time that I wake up I'm alone. There's no warm body beside mine, but I do find a blanket on top of me. I sit up, blinking the sleep out of my eyes as I try to get them to focus. I'm more aware of what's going on this time as I see that I'm still in Arthur's tent. I get out of the bed, stretching my arms above my head and smoothing some of the wrinkles out of my clothes that I acquired from sleeping in them. I inspect the photos that Arthur has tacked up to the side of his wagon. There's one of him with Dutch and Hosea, probably taken a good ten or so years ago. He looked handsome even as a young man, though I can say happily that he aged like a fine wine. Dutch and Hosea don't look too bad themselves. 

There's also one of his father, an angry-sort of man. I can tell from the photo that he must not have had many moments where he smiled. Arthur doesn't talk about his mom and dad very often, but telling by the way he has a separately framed picture of his mother I think it's safe to say he preferred her over him. To the side of that is a picture of a dog, and after looking closer I see the name 'Copper' written beneath it. I didn't know that Arthur had a dog, though he does seem the type. I love both cats and dogs, and wouldn't mind getting one of my own one day. Cain is nice for now, though. 

I want a mirror to fix my hair before leaving the tent and I know that he has one for when he shaves. I don't think he'll really mind if I go through some of his drawers, considering there isn't much of his I haven't already seen. There isn't one in the first two drawers I open, just an assortment of odd items that he probably just wanted stored away. When I open the third one down I find it, but as I pull it out something else grabs my attention. 

Setting the mirror to the side I reach down slowly, lifting the photo out of where it was buried beneath a few odd pieces of paper. The face that I see is one that I instantly recognize, because it's a character that I wanted Arthur to interact with more than anyone. 

It's Mary Linton.

I feel my mouth go dry as I remember how important this woman is to Arthur. When I first encountered her in the game I was ecstatic because I wanted nothing more than for Arthur to be happy and I thought she could help him. Knowing that they were engaged in the past but they parted ways nearly broke my heart. In the way that he acted around her and responded to her asking for help it was plain to see that he still cared for her deeply--if not still loved her. I wanted the two of them to get back together, but I never got to see past that first encounter if they do or do not end up with each other. Mary didn't like the way he was living and she felt that it would be best for the both of them if she broke off the engagement. I can only imagine how heartbroken Arthur must have been. 

He still has a photo of her, after all. 

"Mornin' sunshine," Arthur suddenly pushes past the flap of the tent and ducks beneath it, "people are startin' ta wonder if you drank yourself to death." His voice is teasing and I look up with wide eyes to see him grinning at me. The look quickly turns to confusion when he sees me standing there with a 'deer in the headlights' appearance. His eyes flit back and forth between me and the photo in my hands quickly, and I honestly have no clue why I am still holding onto it. 

"I," my voice is quiet, looking down at the object for a moment before turning and putting it back where I found it and shutting the drawer, "uh, I was looking for your mirror. I hope you don't mind that I went through your things." I pick up the mirror and hold it up to prove what I'm saying. 

Arthur is frozen, simply staring at the area where I put the photo back into. I turn my back to him and put the mirror down, ignoring the tightness in my chest and hurrying to fix my hair up into a ponytail. I blame my dry mouth on the drinking from the night before.

Once I'm finished I simply put the mirror on the table and turn quickly, finding Arthur still standing there. Only this time he's staring at me, a blank look on his face. I have a deep fear that somehow I've upset him or offended him by finding that photo. All my nerves sit in a tight bundle in the center of my stomach as I give him a tight smile and go to walk past him. Before I get too far his arm shoots out, grabbing my elbow. It's loose enough that I could slip out of it if I wanted to, but I don't want to. 

"Lily," Arthur's voice is low as his eyes are downcast to the ground, searching for something, "I don't know how to explain what ya found. It's not what ya think."

I place my hand on top of his own that's currently holding onto me and feel my brows furrow as I see something akin to stress on his face. "Arthur, you don't have to explain anything to me. I shouldn't have gone through your things. Don't worry."

"But I  _do_ ," this time he does look at me and the serious look he gives me is completely different from the carefree Arthur I was with last night. "I may not be a good man, Lily Edwards, but I don't have anything to hide." He faces me completely this time. "I was engaged before."

"Arthur, you don't have to--"

He holds up a hand and I stop. "Her name is Mary Linton. Well, before she was married it was Gillis but now she's a Linton." He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I look around for a second, unsure of what to do before deciding to sit down beside him. I'm stiff and awkward and I feel a tension between the two of us that wasn't there before. 

I have to make him think that I don't already know who she is. "She's very pretty." 

That gets me a half of a laugh. He rubs the back of his neck with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. Too pretty for me." His glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "A lotta people are too pretty for me."

"Hey now," I start, scolding him jokingly. He scoffs, shaking his head. 

"I know," he leans close to me and his voice lowers, "apparently my looks ain't  _legal_."

I blush as he gets a full blow laugh out of my reaction. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

"Yeah, well, I hold my liquor a lot better than you do, sweetheart." I know that he's just joking around with me but I still feel warm and fuzzy when he calls me that. I wonder if he calls any of the other women here in camp any names of endearment? They're enough of a family here that I wouldn't be surprised by it. 

He coughs, clearing his throat as his mood sobers. "As I was sayin', Mary Linton was a woman that I thought would be the only woman in my life." He looks over to the dresser where the photo is stored. "For a long time I kept that out so that I could look at it and remind myself of what I lost because of who I am. Mary told me herself that she realized I ain't ever gonna change. I figured that out a long time ago."

The more he says the more he seems to fold in on himself. His shoulders hunch as he leans forward to rest on his knees. I didn't know that Mary was part of the reason that Arthur loathed himself so much. 

"Arthur, sometimes people get together just to fall apart. It's a learning experience. Just because you have fun with someone doesn't mean that you're destined to end up with them. I'm going to guess that Mary's family didn't approve of the two of you?"

He nods his head, confused as to how I would know that. "That's right. She came from a high society family. Her daddy was a right bastard. Hated my guts."

I laugh, rubbing his back with one of my hands as I lean against his side. "Then take that as a plus. At least you know that your in-law won't be that man."

"Guess you're right," he agrees, smiling at me. I leave my hand on his back, resting my head on his shoulder. He turns towards me slightly so that I'm more comfortable against him. 

"You and her are from two different worlds. She may say that you can't change, but neither can she. I bet you still love Mary, and that's okay. I have a few boyfriends back home that I still care for deeply. Just because you're no longer with someone doesn't mean you have to hate them."

"I don't."

I lift my head off his shoulder and look at him closely. "What?"

He pulls back from me, a determined look on his face. "I don't love her anymore. I thought that Mary would be the only woman that I'd think of havin' feelings for, but she ain't." He juts his thumb over to the side. "I haven't wanted to see that photo for a while now." 

With the way he's speaking it makes me feel almost as if he's talking about  _me_ , but he couldn't possibly be. What could I have to do with Mary? 

"I don't deserve anyone else," he shakes his head when I go to argue with him, "I mean it. I'm an old man--"

"--you're barely past 35 years old--"

"--and I've done some horrible things in my life." He cocks an eyebrow when I comment on his age but doesn't argue any further on that particular matter. He pauses for a moment, running a hand over his chin as he tries to find the words to say. "It's no wonder that people have left me."

I frown. "Arthur..."

He slides away from me and takes my hands in his own, clasping them tightly. He's warm and the callouses on his skin are different from the smoothness of my own hands. It shows that this man has worked his entire life, has done rough things in order to get to where he is today. It only makes my feelings for him grow. 

"But then this crazy girl, being taken away by O'Driscoll's, shows up in some weird finagled outfit and knows my name. My story. She may be one of the most stuck up people I've met and god  _damn_ if it ain't cute as hell when she tries to fight Micah. But those are just a few things that I can't get enough of when it comes to her. She makes me hope that maybe, just maybe, I might have another chance at somethin'." 

My heart starts to beat wildly in my chest, the sound of it reaching my ears. I don't know what Arthur is trying to get at here but I do know that he's  _definitely_ talking about me now. 

"Lily," Arthur lowers his voice, leaning closer to me until we're almost nose to nose, "you've done more for me than I could ever think to repay ya for. You've saved my life. You've made me happier these past few weeks than I've been in a long, long time. " 

I swallow, feeling my mouth go dry. "Why haven't you married anyone else?"

"Nobody would have me."

"Oh, Arthur," I reach a hand up, cupping his cheek and looking back and forth between his eyes, "you have no clue how loved you are."

He sucks in a breath, eyes widening slightly at my words.  I don't know what else to say. If this is going where I _think_ it's going then I can honestly say I wasn't expecting it. But to be sure, I need him to tell me. I need him to  _say_ it.

I wet my lips and he watches me do it. He locks eyes with me, his blue eyes shining with some unspoken emotion. My voice is barely above a whisper. "Why haven't you needed to look at the picture?"

"Because I have you." 

I barely have time to process what he's said before he's leaning forward to press his lips on mine. My breath stops in my lungs so I can breathe neither in nor out. The hand that had been on his cheek slides around to cup the back of his neck as I close my eyes, pressing back against him. He releases my hand in favor of placing them on either side of my face to hold me still. He hums in the back of his throat, and I part my lips as his tongue swipes across my bottom lip. He slips it inside, noises of my own making escaping me. 

Everything around us seems to fade away as we sit on his bed, making out like two teenagers. With my hands running across his back and his holding onto my hair we must look like two people who are starved of air and can only breathe if they're mouth to mouth. I had no desire to stop this--all these pent up feelings that I had been storing towards this handsome cowboy were now coming out and into the open. It was like a dam had burst and there was no floodgate that could possibly try to stop it now. 

I bite down on his bottom lip, tugging on it gently as he groans. His eyes are somewhat clenched shut as he tries to control himself. His fingers slide down from my head to my sides, digging themselves into my skin until I'm sure I'll have impressions--if not bruises--from them later on. 

"Arthur!" 

Dutch startles the both of us an we leap away from one another, breathing heavily. We stare at one another, taking in the disheveled appearance of the other person. Arthur's pupils are blown wide, his lips somewhat swollen and shining. He swallows, staring intensely at me from his side of the bed. 

"Arthur, when you have a minute I need to speak with you!" Dutch calls once more from outside the tent, his voice growing quieter as he walks away from us. 

"You..." I trail off, my voice cracking slightly, "you should go see what he wants." 

Arthur nods slowly, not taking his eyes off me. I run my hands through my hair, trying to smooth it down so that when I go out in the public people won't stare. 

Who am I kidding? Of course they're going to stare. 

I stand, feeling his eyes track my every move. "I'll see you later, Arthur." I tell him over my shoulder and then step out of the tent. 

 _Holy shit_ , I think to myself as I walk back to where my new tent is set up,  _I just kissed Arthur Morgan._

 _No, Arthur Morgan kissed_ me. 

I plop down on my bedroll, letting out a deep breath. 

What the hell just happened?


	16. Hunting Trips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! Thanks to all of you for being so understanding and all the encouraging messages! I've been settling into college again so hopefully once I get a routine I'll be able to dedicate more time to this story. Also thank you for all the suggestions of what you want to read! I'm going to try to write all of them or something similar to them!
> 
> I should have the next chapter out by Sunday at the latest, though I'm hoping to have it out in the next day or two. Stay posted!
> 
> Question: This is a big one. I already have an idea of how I want this story to eventually end, but after reading all your comments I want to know what you would prefer to happen. Would you rather Lily end up back in 2018 or would you prefer her to stay in the current time period of 1899? Not saying that stuff won't happen regardless of which you pick, but that's the end result. Let me know!

After sitting in my tent for a good ten minutes I get ready for the day, trying to clear my head so that I can focus on something else. But try as I might I can't stop feeling Arthur's lips pressed to mine, the way that he held me to him as though he was afraid I was going to fall through the ground.

I go over to the barrel outside Dutch's tent and splash some water on my face. _Get it together. You're not some little girl who had her first kiss._

"--low on supplies, and I can't send the others. I wouldn't ask if there were any other way, son."

I lift my head, hearing Dutch's voice through the cloth walls between us. There's a soft coughing sound and a creaking of a chair.

"It's fine, Dutch. I'm feelin' better. I can handle it. I'll see if Charles will come with me. Mentioned somethin' about a tribe up that way so he can ride with me for a while and I'll meet up with him on my way back."

That's Arthur's voice. What are they talking about? Is Dutch sending Arthur somewhere? He better _not_ be. It's barely been two weeks since Arthur was shot, there's no way that I'm just going to let him go wherever the fuck it is Dutch is trying to get him to go.

I walk in the rear way to Dutch's tent, their backs facing me. Dutch gives me a confused look and Arthur simply stares at me. I walk over to Dutch, pointing a finger in his direction.

"Are you sending him somewhere?"

Dutch glances at Arthur before holding his hands up to me to try to calm me down. It doesn't work.

"Now, Lily, it's just a simple hunting trip. Charles heard that there was an albino bison up near Lake Isabella that has a good price on its head. Arthur is just going to kill it and sell the pelt while we get the meat. It's an easy job, nothing too strenuous."

Lake Isabella? Isn't that up near Colter?

"You don't mean to tell me that you're going to send him up into the mountains, do you? Where it's snowy and cold and _dangerous for a man who was just shot?_ "

"Hey now," Arthur grumbles, frowning at me, "this man is standin' right here. I can hear every word you're sayin'."

"You're not going, Arthur." I turn my glare onto him. "You're not healthy enough for a trip like that."

"I'm goin'." He states, giving me a pointed look. He faces Dutch and nods at him before walking out of the tent and towards where Charles is. I shake my head as I watch him walk away, astounded by this man's stupidity.

"He has no care for his own well-being."

"Pearson is low on food. Sean, Javier, John, and even Kieran are working on a possible job for the Braithwaite's. Micah is out running an errand for me. Arthur is a grown man, he'll be fine." Dutch lays his hand on my shoulder in what I'm sure is supposed to be a comforting gesture but it just irritates me. I shrug him off and scowl at him.

"You're signing his death certificate by sending him out there alone."

Dutch sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Then why don't you just go with him? You can keep an eye on him that way."

I blink. "Go _with_ him? I don't know one thing about hunting."

Dutch turns me around and steers me out of his tent. "Then this will be the perfect time to learn. You can bring a deer or something back while he gets the bison. Now, go pack your things."

I stumble away from him, looking back to see him grinning at me. He tips his hat at me before going back inside and sitting down on his bed and pulling out a book.

_Maybe you should go hunting, Dutch. Why don't_ you _go out into the cold wilderness and risk your life for a change?_

Feeling the anger still brimming inside me I walk over to where Arthur and Charles are talking to one another. Charles smiles as I walk over and cross my arms. Arthur lets out a sigh as he sees me standing there.

"Lily, I ain't arguin' with ya again."

I shake my head. "I'm going with you."

The exasperated look on his face turns down into one of confusion. "What?"

"Dutch said that I'm to go with you so that I can keep my eye on you."

Arthur's eyes dart up to look over my head to where Dutch is located. He narrows them and I see his fists clench at his side. "Like _hell_ you are. Like you said, it's dangerous out there. You can't come."

I stand my ground. "That's exactly why I'm going with you." I let out a frustrated sound, trying to force myself to be calm about this. Throwing a temper tantrum won't help convince them that I should go. "Listen, Arthur, I know you're a strong man," he looks down at me, "but you were just shot. I was _just_ sewing you up. I can't, with good conscience, let you go out there and risk your life."

A furrow appears between his brows. "I've done it before."

"You _shouldn't_ ." My voice is quiet. Who knows how the other members of the camp will react if they hear this. I don't mind Charles hearing, because I know he feels about as much of an outsider as I do. He's told me just as much. "What you've been through... I can't even begin to think of what that must have been like. If something like that happened to me, I would have died." He opens his mouth but I hold up a hand. "That's how I know you're so strong. But why, for just one _minute_ , can't you let someone want to take care of you?"

There's a tense silence that stretches between the two of us after I finish speaking. The look he's giving me makes it hard to maintain eye contact with him, but I do it. If I back down he'll think he's won, and that can't be the case here.

Charles coughs awkwardly, taking a minuscule step back. "I think she should come with us, Arthur. It'll be good to have a doctor on hand if something does happen."

I'm flattered that Charles at least acknowledges my expertise. Arthur doesn't acknowledge him, still watching me intently. After a few more seconds he lets out a deep breath through his nose and I notice his shoulders sag a little bit.

"Fine. You can come." I feel myself relax. _"But_ you have to follow my rules? Got it? This ain't gonna be no game out there."

How ironic of him to say that.

I smile and place my hand on his arm. "Thank you, Arthur." 

I turn and walk over to my tent to start packing. If I get cold here at camp then I'm probably going to be freezing up in the mountains. I don't really have that much heavy clothing so I'll have to stop at Rhodes before we go to far and stock up on some supplies. I'll also need to get tent supplies to make sure that I'm stocked up for Chewie and I. I feel bad for what this poor horse is about to go through. 

Once I have my things I go out and start to attach my belongings to my saddle. Chewie moves restlessly, knowing that we're about to be going somewhere. Miss Grimshaw, having been told by Dutch about what is going to happen, brings over a bag of food and drink that we can distribute between the three of us. She hands it over to me with a tight smile, giving a firm nod before walking back to harass Karen and Mary-Beth about not doing any work. 

Charles comes out and unhitches Taima, loading his things on her back before jumping in the saddle. I climb on my own horse and scratch his neck, smiling to myself as he almost seems to stretch his neck out for more. 

"Are ya sure ya didn't change your mind?" Arthur asks and I see him standing on the ground below me. He has a pair of riding jeans on and a black union shirt, his signature cowboy hat on top of his head. He's squinting to see me past the sun, the concern evident on his face. 

"Are you sure you didn't change yours?" I challenge with a raise of my brow. He looks to the ground and scoffs, shaking his head. He looks back up and I see how the corner of his mouth tugs upwards slightly, though he may not even notice it. 

"Thought I'd give it a try." He sighs and walks over to Winston, throwing his things on before getting on him with a grunt. I frown as I see Arthur roll his left shoulder as he grips the reigns in his hands. He nods at Charles and I and then we're on our way. We give a wave to the remaining people in the camp and ride out. The sun is still high in the sky considering it's not quite noon yet so that means we'll be able to make a lot of headway today. We'll ride for a while and then stop for the night somewhere. If I'm correct, this trip shouldn't take more than four days. That's wishful thinking though, and I know it. 

If only Arthur would just listen to me once in a while. 

* * *

Two hours later we're somewhere near the Heartlands, the thick trees surrounding us on either side. I can feel the weather begin to slowly lower in temperature the later and farther north we go so I'm happy that we did stop in Rhodes so I could buy some heavier clothing. Arthur and Charles also bought some more supplies for the trip, though they did grumble about having to stop in the first place. 

"Let's rest over here, let the horses take a break." Charles announces over his shoulder as he veers off the main path and down a small bank. I see a small stream of water trickling down through the rocks at the bottom of the hill. We dismount and I lead Chewie over to get a drink. As he does so I brush him a little bit, feeling bad when I notice the sweat spots on him. Poor horse is getting a work out from this trip. 

"We should travel for another few hours and set up somewhere above Valentine." Charles sits on a rock be Taima. "I'll split off from you guys then and meet up at the saloon two days later." 

Arthur nods, pulling hit hat off to run his hand through his hair. "If we don't see ya by then just go back to Clemens Point. Somethin' might happen that we get caught up and ya shouldn't wait too long for us."

Arthur and Charles talk for a little while longer, ironing out the details for the next few days. Cupping my hands together I scoop up some of the water and take a drink, relishing in the coolness of it. There's clean water back at camp but it's usually not that cold. This is chilled--the spring weather preventing it from warming up even with the heat of the sun. 

"How ya holdin' up?" 

I shield my eyes from the sun with my hand, looking up to see Arthur standing above me. I can tell he's still sort of upset that I came with them, judging by the lack of conversation between him and I for the past two hours. I didn't try to push him, instead letting him make the first move to strike up conversation. He just needs time to understand that I'm not going anywhere and he'll be fine. 

"I'm fine. Chewie is probably doing worse than I am right now."

Arthur's nose crinkles. "Chewie is a damn strange name for a horse."

I roll my eyes, wiping my hands on my pants as I stand up. "I told you it was short for Chewbacca."

"Yeah--you never explained what that even was."

"A Chewbacca," I walk over to my horse, pulling on his bridle so his face is close to mine, "is a big furry beast with a heart of gold." I look Arthur up and down. "You kind of remind me of him."

Arthur frowns. "I ain't no beast, let alone a hairy one. And the heart of gold? If my heart was made of gold I woulda sold it by now."

I shrug, releasing Chewie and walking over to the saddle so I can get back up. "I know what I said."

I smile to myself as I hear Arthur mumble something under his breath. He stalks over to Winston, climbing in the saddle and shaking his head at me one last time before we're riding once again. Charles looks between the two of us with a knowing smile and lets out a chuckle as he takes off after the other man. I follow behind, letting Chewie keep his own pace with the others. 

* * *

When Charles splits off from us we're just an hour above Valentine. He checks to make sure we'll be fine without him before heading off towards the Wapiti Indian reservation. He has some business there that not many people know about, but he reassured us he's just figuring things out for now. That there's nothing for us to worry about. So we sent him off with our best wishes and began to remove our tent supplies from our horses. 

Arthur set his tent up fairly quickly and offered to help me with mine but I declined. I don't want him to work more than I already know he's going to on this trip so I can manage this myself. Slowly but surely, about an hour after we stopped I finally got it set up. Arthur already had a fire going by then and was cooking some rabbit for us that Winston accidentally stepped on while we were passing through the Heartlands. 

I sit down on my bedroll that rests beside the fire with a sigh, rubbing my hands against my face tiredly. I take out one of the drinks that Miss Grimshaw packed for us and drink a little bit of it. Though it may be getting colder outside I'm currently a little warm from setting up my tent. 

Arthur glances up at me from where he's crouched by the fire. "You get it done?"

I put the lid back on my drink and set it down. "Finally."

He snorts. "I offered to help you set it up."

I narrow my eyes, not liking the know-it-all look he has on his face. "I managed just fine by myself, even if it was a little slow."

Arthur seems to realize that I'm not in a joking mood by the way he backs off from that topic immediately. He finishes with the rabbit and hands me some that's resting on the edge of a knife, expecting me to just eat it off that. I stare at him blankly, slowly taking the offered object. He bites into his own share eagerly, chewing on the meat. After a few bites he looks up to see I still haven't touched mine. 

"It ain't gonna bite ya," he says through his food, "at least not anymore."

I stare at him for a second before looking back at the rabbit. I'm not afraid to eat it, I'm just afraid to eat it off a  _knife_. I've had people come into my emergency room for doing stupid acts like this. 

And besides, looking at the way the blade reflects in the flames just reminds me of a similar blade that I held not too long ago. It's unsettling. 

I gingerly take a bite of the meat, being careful not to cut my tongue or anything in the process. The rabbit is unseasoned and relatively bland, but it also doesn't taste bad and does a good job of filling me up. Once I'm finished I wipe the knife off and hand it back to Arthur, watching as he places it in the holster around his waist. 

Arthur pulls out a pocket watch and glances at it briefly before snapping it shut. He stretches out on his bedroll, folding his right arm behind his head and letting the other rest across his stomach. "We should get some sleep. The earlier we get goin' tomorrow the better chance we have of huntin' the bison in the daylight." 

He closes his eyes and all I hear are the horses and the crackling of the fire in front of me. I have my knees huddled close to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around them. Arthur is being so...nonchalant. So offhand with the way he's talking to me. I can understand him acting like that in front of Charles, but now that we're alone I feel like we should talk about what happened earlier. I'm not a teenager and neither is he, so we shouldn't skirt around the topic like ones. 

"Arthur..." I say, my voice quiet in the night. He doesn't rouse from his position, doesn't even act like he heard me. Maybe he didn't? "Arthur?"

"Lily?" 

I clear my throat, not quite knowing how to approach this subject. I may not skirt around it but that doesn't mean I'm not nervous. 

"How are you feeling?"

Arthur sits up somewhat, looking across the fire at me. I can see the way the orange and red is reflected in his eyes. He's quite the sight to behold in person. "I'm fine. I've told ya that already."

I can't help but groan softly at his answer. Of course he's not going to be forthcoming with this information. 

"Humor me."

There's a stretch of silence before he lets out a sigh, laying back down. "I'm fine, Lily. Honest." 

I look down at the ground, my hand tracing a pattern in the dirt idly. "Alright."

There's another period where neither one of us says anything. I want him to say something--anything--so that I won't continue feeling like a complete idiot for what happened this morning. Because that's what's currently happening. Is there a reason he isn't saying anything? Does he regret it? Was it all a big mistake?

I can't help but feel a little upset as I accept that he isn't going to say anything. I lay down on my bedroll, facing away from him and pulling my blanket over me. I guess there won't be any further talking tonight. 

* * *

Arthur wakes me up the next morning with a gentle shake of my shoulder. He already had the camp torn down and most of our belongings packed up, ready for us to take off again. I'm a little sour that he didn't wake me up so that I could help him, but also touched that he thought to let me sleep in. 

Few words are exchanged between us as we head out back on the path towards the mountains. The lack of talking between us just sours my mood even more, causing a feeling akin to anxiety begin to build in my stomach. I never feel like this. I had few relationships back home and was never really that concerned when it came to them, so this rejected feeling that I'm experiencing is not pleasant in the slightest. 

I care about Arthur. A lot. The way that this man has made me feel in the short time that I've known him is something I've never had before and I'm afraid of losing it. 

Another part of me thinks that I shouldn't be blowing this out of proportion. So what we kissed? So what that he said all those endearing things? So what whenever I'm with him I feel more exhilarated than I did any day that I worked in the emergency room. 

Oh, god. Do I  _love_ Arthur?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. I'm not going down that road. I'm not going to torture myself like that. Especially if he doesn't feel the same way. I'm Lily Edwards. I don't fret over guys. I'm better than that. 

However, as I follow behind the man in question while riding across the hills a feeling of despair washes over me. This isn't just any man. This is Arthur Morgan here. The best man that I've ever known. 

Arthur glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I look to the side, not wanting him to see the emotions that I know are displayed on my face. When I peek back at him he's looking forward, his jaw clenched tightly. 

When the ground begins to become more and more covered with snow, the air getting chillier and making my lungs burn, Arthur finally lets us stop to rest the horses. I pull out my big coat, slipping it on and trying not to let my chattering teeth become too obvious. I'm not a fan of the cold--this is something that almost anyone who knows me will tell you. 

As I'm slipping my gloves on as well I notice Arthur staring at me from where he's seated atop Winston. When he still isn't saying anything I can't help but let me irritation from the past day decide the words what words come out of my mouth. 

"Is something wrong?" My tone is harsher than I expect it to be. He narrows his eyes slightly, sliding off of Winston and landing on his feet with a harsh thud. He stomps over to me planting his hands on his hips as he stares up at me. He gestures to the ground, conveying that he wants me to get down as well. I raise a brow and swing my leg over, slipping off of Chewie and landing in front of him, so close that I could take a step forward and be pressed against his chest. 

_Stop thinking like that_. 

"Why the cold shoulder?" He complains, the sides of his mouth down turned. 

I cross my arms over my chest. "I could ask you the same thing." 

He actually has the audacity to look surprised. "What are ya talkin' about?"

I peer at him, trying to see if he's being serious or not. When I see that he's not joking I take a step backwards, getting a good look at his face. "You've barely said five words to me since yesterday morning."

I watch him swallow when I mention yesterday. I'm not sure if it's just the cold wind or not, but his face turns a little red as well. His stance become a little less confident as he looks to the side. 

"We don't have to talk about it. I thought--" I cut myself off, letting out a puff of air as I try to control what I say. I can't lose my temper, I can't let him see how affected I am. "We can just forget about it if you want. We don't have to say a single word on the matter and things can go back to normal."

He whips his head back to look at me, eyes wide. "Forget about it?" His voice is quiet. He steps closer, fingers flexing at his sides like he doesn't know what to do with them. "I haven't stopped  _thinkin'_ about it. How the hell am I supposed to forget it?"

Somewhere during his little speech I forgot to keep breathing. There's a tight feeling in my chest that won't seem to loosen so that I can actually get air in my lungs. 

He takes a step forward, forcing me to walk back until I'm pressed against Chewie and he's caging me in with no escape in sight. 

The bad part is that I don't  _want_ to get away.

"I weren't sure how you felt about it," Arthur mumbles, his body warm as he stands so close, "and I got to thinkin' about it. I shouldn't have taken advantage of ya like that."

"You didn't take advantage of me." I tell him quietly. He cocks an eyebrow at me. 

"I didn't?"

I shake my head, feeling my mouth go dry. "If we're being honest with one another..." I take a deep breath, trying to turn the anger I had been feeling earlier into some form of courage, "I  _wanted_ you to do it." 

His mouth slowly curls into a smile, and I feel myself doing the same in response. "Really?"

I nod, one of my gloved hands creeping up and pressing lightly on his chest. "You weren't mentioning it though, so I thought you regretted it."

He groans, one hand covering my own and the other reaching up to cup my cheek. He brushes his thumb across my cheek, leaning towards me slightly. 

"That is the  _opposite_ of what I felt." His breath is warm as it brushes across my face. "I don't want things to go back to normal."

I don't know who does it first, or maybe we do it at the same time. Either way, one moment we're simply staring at one another and the next thing I know is that we're kissing each other again. I'm holding the lapels of his jacket tightly as he clutches my body close to his own, our mouths pressed so tightly together that I can almost feel the imprint of his teeth through my lips. 

After a few moments I pull back, breathing heavily so that I can get used to air once again. He presses a few stray kisses to the side of my mouth, working his way up to my ear and then parting with a soft press of his lips to my forehead. I wrap my arms around his back, letting him hold me close and use his body to shield out the cold air that blows around us. 

"If you  _ever_ ," I say after we stand there for a few moments, "ignore me like that and make me feel like shit again, I will hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I care for you." 

He chuckles and I smile as I hear the noise deep in his chest. "I wouldn't have ya any other way."

I pull back to look up at him. "We do need to talk, though. I don't... I'm not..." 

Arthur presses another kiss to me, this one quick but filled with just as much emotion. "We will. Let's just wait until we find a place to rest, alright? There's a storm coming. It's not good to be out here in the open at night." He squeezes me one last time before releasing his hold and placing his hands on my waist and lifting me up on Chewie. I let out a sound of protest, holding onto his arms tightly. 

"Arthur! Your shoulder!"

"Is just fine," he waves away my concern. He winks at me and goes over to Winston and mounts.

We start heading off up into the mountain, getting closer and closer to our destination. However, I notice that the higher we climb the darker it gets and the heavier the snowfall becomes. Eventually the snow is so thick that I'm having trouble seeing Arthur properly in front of me, having to rely on Chewie being able to follow Winston through this mess so that we don't get separated. 

"Arthur!" I call, covering my face with my arm so that the snow doesn't pelt it as bad. It stings as it comes into contact with my skin, though I'm surprised I even feel anything anymore. I  _hate_ the cold weather. We can't be going much farther, can we?

"You alright?" He yells back, turning around to try to talk to me. 

"When are we stopping?" 

"There's a cabin up here--we can stay there the night while the storm dies."

I only hear about half of what he says because at that point in time Chewie begins to stomp restlessly. He stops moving, dancing sideways as his ears pin back against his head. I frown, unsure of why he was suddenly acting up. I tighten my hold on the reigns, lightly kicking him in the sides so that he'll keep walking forward but he won't listen. 

"Chewie!" I scold, pressing my heels in a little harder. He suddenly lets out a loud neigh, lifting off his front legs slightly and forcing me to grip onto his mane tightly with fear. "Arthur!"

That's when I hear it. Just a few feet away there's a growl and I look over wildly to see three wolves stalking us through the trees. Their teeth are bared, sharp and easy to see in the moonlight. I let out a gasp, looking forward to see that Winston has also been spooked. Arthur is trying to calm him down, looking around to find the source of the disruption. He looks back at me, concern on his face. 

"Wolves!" I shout, pointing one hand in their direction. Arthur sees them and he instantly pulls his pistol out, firing at them. 

Chewie gets spooked at the noise and nearly bucks me off but I hold on tightly. You'd think that a horse that was used by the O'Driscoll's would be used to the sound of a gun but I guess not. One of the wolves lets out a whimper but the other two are unaffected, leaping forwards at my horse. Chewie takes off, running off the main path and down through the trees. I let out a frightened yelp and hold on tightly, afraid of falling off and being left for the wolves. 

Chewie runs through the snow, unafraid of being unable to see in this storm. I look back and see the wolves are close on our trail, relentless in their hunt for a fresh meal. Just beyond them I see Arthur riding close behind on Winston, trying to get them off of Chewie and I's tail. 

Chewie suddenly veers right and as he does so one of the wolves leaps in the air, clawing my leg and scaring him. Chewie fully bucks me off him this time and I fall off to the side, falling down the mountainside. I go rolling, not even acknowledging the pain in my leg as I focus on trying to stop myself but realizing it's harder than I expected. I scramble with my hands and feet, trying to latch onto something so that I can stop but it doesn't work. 

There's a drop off and I feel my stomach slam into a rock, knocking all the air out of my lungs and slowing my reaction time so that I can't stop myself as I fall over the edge. As I plummet to the ground below the last thing I hear is Arthur faintly calling my name, and then the ground rushes up to my face and I know no more. 


	17. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING. Thank you all for the encouraging messages as I finish my first week back at college! Shout out to MidnightGuardian because holy shit. Your comment blew me away. 
> 
> I'm sorry this took me so long to get out--I meant to have it out earlier but my job called and I had to work this weekend so I had even less time to write than I originally planned. My goal is to have at least two chapters out a week, if not more. Also, someone asked if they could make fan art for this story and my answer is HELL YES. I've never had anyone want to do that before and I was so touched???? I love you guys so much. If you ever make something just let me know and I'll put a link to it in the story so that others can see it! 
> 
> Question: thoughts on the possibility of Arthur and Lily having kids?? Maybe? Still thinking about it but I'm also reviewing your responses to whether or not she stays in the 1800's or goes back to her normal time, so that will affect the answer to this question as well. Have a great week!

_ "You know, you should really take a vacation or something. Even if it were just for a few days, maybe a week?" Cam takes a bite of his sandwich, nodding at me. "You've been here for a while. I get that you love your job--which is great--but nobody can do this for forever with no break."  _

_ I watch him over the brim of my coffee cup, smirking as he gets a smudge of  mustard above his lip. I hand him a napkin wordlessly, watching with amusement as he wipes around his face.  _

_ "I don't need one." I say after a minute, setting my cup back down on the table in the cafeteria. The food in the hospital is either great or terrible, so most days I opt to pack my own. Cam seems to enjoy the meatloaf though so he buys it almost every day. "I'm honestly fine. I get enough sleep, I have some fun outside of work, and then I get to see you guys the next day." I shrug. "Besides, I only work every other weekend. So technically I do get a break." _

_ Cam raises a brow at me. "You know exactly what I mean. You're still on call even if you aren't technically here. That's not a vacation." He leans forward and places his hand on top of mine. "I mean that you should get away without having to worry about being elbow-deep in someone's chest cavity every day. That can't be good for your blood pressure." _

_ I scoff. "My blood pressure is fine. The only time it isn't fine is when Wayne forgets to prep the operating room." _

_ "Which is often!" Cam defends himself. We both laugh at the little inside joke. I let out a sigh, leaning back in my chair with an easy smile on my face.  _

_ "We miss you, ya know." _

_ I look up at Cam with a frown. "What do you mean? I'm right here?" _

_ Cam's face suddenly turns down, the happy-go-lucky look that usually occupies it replaced with one of the saddest expressions I've ever seen on him before. "No, you're not." _

_ I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Did I drink some funky coffee or something? I go to look inside the cup but it's suddenly no longer in my hand and when I look up I'm not in the cafeteria anymore. Cam and some other members of my team stand in front of me, all looking like they were crying.  _

_ "I wish you would wake up." _

_ I look over at Amy, shaking my head. "I'm right here. What are you guys talking about?" _

_ Cam steps forward, placing his hands on my cheeks. They're somewhat wet and I'm afraid to know what with. He leans in close to me, staring me straight in the eye.  _

_ "Wake up, Lily." _

* * *

 

My eyes fly open and I'm greeted by darkness. I take in a deep breath of air, feeling my chest and lungs burn as what feels like icicles goes down my airway. There's a snort and breath of hot air brushes across my face, though I'm too numb to feel much of it. As I try to adjust to my surroundings I see a dark shape directly in front of me. It feels soft and also somewhat wet. Is this what I was feeling in my dream? 

There's another snort and the object presses against the top of my head and I feel a few of my hairs get tugged on. I twist away with a moan, the sharp sensation painful and unwanted. As my vision clears I finally make out what's in front of me, and I can't believe my eyes. 

It's a horse. A stark  _ white _ horse, though the muzzle is dark. It's sniffing around my head, obviously curious as to what I am and what I'm doing here. It's gorgeous. 

There's a sudden stinging in my leg and I jolt somewhat, lurching off the ground and reaching down with frozen fingers to press at the spot. It's wet still but there's also what I'm guessing is dried blood there. I let out a hiss through my teeth as my fingertips graze the edges of my wound. I'm so tired, my head and chest aching from my fall down the mountain. At my sudden movements the horse spooks, rearing back and letting out a loud whinny. I hold up my hands in a calming gesture, not wanting the horse to get scared enough that it decides to attack me with its hooves. 

"Shh," I hush quietly, watching the animal closely, "it's okay. It's alright--" I peer in the darkness at the animal, trying to see if it's male or female, "--girl, i-it's okay. I won't hurt you." I can't stop my teeth from chattering. In the time that I've apparently been unconscious I've laid there long enough for the snow to soak straight through my clothes and into what seems like my bones. I'm freezing, unable to feel some of my body parts, I'm bleeding from my leg, and I'm very  _tired_. Like I could just curl up right there on the soft snow and go back to sleep. 

But I know that's bad. It's a wonder I even woke up in the first place. Falling unconscious right now would mean almost certain death. 

The horse lets out some harsh puffs of air through its nostrils, obviously agitated that I stopped it from its exploration. I reach slowly into my side bag, pulling out one of the sugar cubes that I had stored away for Chewie. As my hands shake from the effort of this small task I realize that maybe I should've bought some gloves when we went to Rhodes. I wasn't expecting it to be this cold, though. I'm severely under prepared. 

The horse stomps its hooves restlessly, bobbing its head up and down. It stretches forward slowly, cautious about me and this odd thing that I'm offering it. I try to stay still, wanting to be on this animal's good side. When she finally gets close enough to sniff the object she seems to relax somewhat. Her lips curl back as she reaches forward to pick up the object with her teeth. I vaguely notice in the back of my mind that I can't feel the horse with my hand, and I know that I need to warm up and soon. 

The horse is still close enough after she's taken the treat that I can reach out and place my hand on her cheek gently, stroking in a comforting fashion. She isn't sure what to make of it at first, pulling back slightly before deciding she likes it so she leans forward so that I can continue doing it. 

I smile, letting out a puff of air. I see the steam from it rise out in front of my face. I wonder what Arthur would think of this animal?

_Arthur_.   


Oh my god. I need to focus. How long have I been out? Where am I? Where's Chewie?  _Where's Arthur?_

I pull back from the horse, not thinking too much about how the animal seems almost upset that I stopped. I look around, taking in the area that I seem to have ended up in. The moon is high in the sky, a bright beacon in the dark. The stars are littered around it, their beauty pale in comparison. I turn somewhat, a little painfully, and see the lake that has to be the source of the sound of running water that I hear. Some portions of the lake are frozen over, and there are a pine trees clustered here and there around the area. I rub my hands against my eyes, sucking in a breath as their chilliness touches one of the last few warm parts of my body. I can just make out the shape of something moving over by some bushes, and I pray to God that they're just rabbits. 

I need to get moving. I can't just stay here. I only have my bag on me, and that is only filled with a few things. Some perishable food and some treats for Chewie that I can eat if necessary, but no water. I guess that one thing I can be thankful for right now is that it's not snowing anymore. The bad thing though is that I don't know where I came from. Any tracks I might have made or any tracks Arthur might have made are long covered up by now. I'm out here in the wilderness, by myself. I can try to retrace my steps, but what I fell down is high and steep, and even if I had two healthy legs I would have difficulties making that trip. 

I look down at my torn pant leg, trying to gauge just how bad the wound is. I vaguely remember the wolves claws sinking into my thigh, and for that I'm happy that I've been laying in snow for a while. The cold has helped to numb the worst of the pain and also clot the wound. There's still a dull trickle of blood sliding down the side of my leg but until I get proper care, and with the supplies I have now I can tell that it's not going to be possible until I'm somewhere safer. 

I dig my hands into the snow, wincing at the biting sensation that shoots up my arms and push up, trying to stand to my feet. I bend my good leg and put my weight on it, trying to stand to my feet without jostling my other one too much. It doesn't go so well. As my other leg stretches the wound does as well and I let out a cry, falling forward and onto my side in the snow, my face getting covered in the cold substance. I let out a shuddering breath, trying not to let the panic take over that's currently just brewing beneath the surface. If I panic and lose my cool I'll die. If I don't get somewhere warm I'll die. If I fall asleep I'll die. 

Basically, my odds aren't looking so good right now. 

In the span of this the horse decided that she didn't like that I was standing up and trotted over a few feet, watching me from a safe distance. I tuck my loose hair behind my ears, steeling myself for this. I push up again, clambering to my feet and bending over to lean on my good leg, keeping the bad one straight out. New blood comes to the surface and slips down my pant leg at the sudden movement and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. 

I hope Arthur's okay. I can only imagine that after I was kicked off Chewie that the wolves went after him. 

I gasp. Oh my God. Chewie. Did the wolves get my horse? 

I push away the choked up feeling that tries to escape me once more. I can't--not right now. I can focus on all that later on. I won't be of any use to anyone if I'm dead. 

I start to limp north, towards what I'm guessing is the tip of the lake. My movements are slow and I barely make any headway, but at least I'm moving. I look over my shoulder briefly to see that the horse is still watching me, a little closer than she was last standing. This gives me an idea. 

I pull my bag around my shoulder to my front, reaching inside and pulling out another one of Chewie's treats. 

"H-hey girl," I call softly, my words coming out in sharp pants, "you want some more?"

The horse watches me, her nostrils flaring as she takes deep breaths. I hold out the object in my flat palm again, nodding gently. She doesn't move for a few moments before slowly stepping forward, waiting for me to make some sudden move. As if I'm doing this to lure her in so I can attack her. 

When she eats the treat and I'm able to start petting her once more I work my way from her face down her neck, watching her cautiously as I continue petting her. This is a wild animal so I know that I need to be careful with what I do here. 

Her ears turn back towards me once I reach her back and begin to brush my hand from her withers and back. She relaxes more under my touch, the agitation that was present in her before slowly melting away as she calms down beneath my touch. I do this for a few minutes, making sure that she's as calm as I can possibly get her before placing my hands on her back, and bracing myself. 

My plan is simple--if I can get on this horse then I have a better chance of finding some help than if I was on foot. I know this animal is wild and has never been ridden before. I'm not dumb. I know that my chances of this ending well are slim to none, but if I don't try something then it'll never go well. 

I hold my breath and push up, putting my weight on her back. 

She does  _not_ like it. 

She lets out a loud whinny, and before I can even try to slide of safely I'm being kicked into the air and come down hard on the frozen ground. The air is stolen from my lungs once more and tears come to my eyes at the pain the blooms in my chest. Through the ringing in my ears I can hear her crying out as she runs away--away from me. 

I lay in that position for a while, on my stomach and my face pressed against the snow. It doesn't bother me that much anymore. I can't move. My leg hurts too much and I'm beginning to have trouble breathing with all the pressure I feel in my chest. I long for Arthur to be here, just so that I can see him one last time before I die here on this mountain. So I can talk to him, hear his voice, tell him about the beautiful animal I saw. He would appreciate that. 

If I die, will I go back to my time? Will I see Cam and my family again? Or am I dead there too? What I saw in my dream earlier makes no sense to me, but I do believe that Cam is the reason that I woke up. If it hadn't been for him I would have stayed asleep and never woken up at any point. 

Sometime later, in the middle of my mind drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, I hear something in the distance. I pry my eyes open and see nothing, so I close them once more. My mind is most likely playing tricks on me in this delirious stage, trying to give me false hope. I know better. 

"-- _ily!"_

I definitely heard something that time. 

But I'm frozen in my spot, too tired and achy to even  _think_ about moving. This could be my only chance of survival and I'm barely making a move to try to get help. I can do better than that. I'm no quitter.

_"Lily!"_   


I groan, lifting my stiff arms and pushing up off the ground so I can look around. There's no one in front of me, and I look over my shoulder to see a dark figure in the distance, larger than supposed 'rabbits' that I saw earlier. If I squint I think I can make out the shape of a horse but I can't trust myself right now, I could be conjuring anything up. 

"Lily!" The figure calls again, closer this time. I peer at them, a small shard of hope blooming in my chest. 

"Arthur?" I croak, my voice gross and raspy from a combination of disuse and the cold air. The figure draws nearer and I  _do_ see a horse and rider, the former holding a lantern that lights up their face, showing me the signature hat and facial hair of none other than Arthur Morgan himself. 

"Lily?" Arthur calls out, twisting and turning on his horse as he looks around him, trying to get the light of the lantern to stretch as far as possible. 

I grapple in the snow, trying to face him. I slip over my own hands, all feeling in them now completely lost. I push forward though, trying to get as close to him as I possibly can. I need to get his attention before he goes somewhere else and I'm left here once more. 

"Arthur!" My voice is barely at normal speaking level, that simple name sending ripples of pain down my throat. It hurts. Everything hurts. 

"Lily?" He stops, pausing in my direction. He leans forward on Winston, trying to find the source of the sound. 

"Arthur!"

He's off the horse faster than I can blink. "Lily!" He shouts, running through the deep snow towards me. The lantern is shaky in his grasp, the tiny flame inside threatening to go out with every strong gust of wind that blows in the air. 

My arms collapse under me and I once more get a face full of snow. There's a pounding that reverberates through the ground and then the back of my coat is being grabbed and tugged on until I've gone from laying on my stomach to my back. A hand, so warm that it stings in contrast to the coldness of my face, cups my face and brushes the snow off that had been stuck to my skin. I'm so cold that the snow doesn't melt immediately when it touches me anymore. 

"Lily?" Arthur's voice is soft as he talks down to me. I look up into his blue eyes, so happy to see him that I don't even mind all the concern that I see. 

"H-hey cowboy," I say, reaching up and grasping the lapels of his coat with my hands. He looks down at them, his eyes widening when he sees how red they are. 

"Darlin', you're frozen  _solid_." He breathes out. His eyes flicker to mine briefly before going down to look at my leg. 

"It's better than it looks, I swear." I reassure him, and my mouth feels like it's filled with cotton as I talk. "'m cold, Arthur."

"I know, Lily, I know. I'm gonna get you somewhere warm, ya hear?"

I nod, missing his hands when he removes them from my face. I can't help the whine that escapes from the back of my throat and he glances up at me quickly before going back to whatever it is he was doing. He whistles for Winston and the horse comes close enough that he can attach the lantern to the side of the saddle. He turns back to me and crouches down, throwing my arm over his shoulder and placing his arms behind me and under my knees before standing up. I protest at him lifting me into the air, not so out of it that I know he shouldn't be doing this. 

"Arthur, your arm--"

"Will you stop worrying about my damn arm for one second?" He's harsh with his words but I know that he's just trying to hide how worried he really is. It's touching. 

I don't argue with him, instead pressing my face into his neck. His skin is warm and even though he flinches away from the sudden cold he doesn't try to stop me. I faintly feel the heat from his body seeping through his coat and into my own body, but it's minuscule and I might as well not have him there at all. I close my eyes and nestle against him, content to be there than on the hard ground. 

There's a shifting and Arthur lifts me up onto the front of Winston's saddle, and I fumble around to hold onto the horn so that I don't fall off. Arthur is up and behind me a second later, pulling me close against his chest and holding the reigns so that I'm enclosed inside the ring of his arms. I lay back on his chest, trying to burrow as far back as possible. He clicks his tongue and Winston starts to jog off in some direction, hopefully where there's a fire. 

"Arthur," I whisper, trying to make out which direction it is that we're going. "Where's Chewie?"

"I found Chewie," I can feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, "I 'bout lost it when you weren't with him. Brought him back to the camp I set up before I went lookin' for ya."

"That's good." I murmur, and then I remember what it is I wanted to tell him. "I found a horse."

"What?"

"There was a white horse. She was so beautiful, Arthur."

He's quiet for a moment, and I feel something brush along the top of my head. "I bet she was."

"She kicked me off, though." I frown, feeling my eyelids getting heavier with each passing second. "She would be a great horse."

"Is that so?" Arthur sounds kind of amused. 

"Would've been easier to appreciate her if I weren't so damn cold." I grumble. I sigh, closing my eyes and allowing myself to rest. A sudden thought pops into my head and is out of my mouth before I can even think of the weight of what I'm about to say. 

"Do you remember when I found you after the O'Driscoll's took you and you called me an angel?"

Arthur is quiet. One of his hands releases the reigns and he wraps it around my waist, securing me tightly against him. "Yeah, I do."

"You're my angel, Arthur Morgan."

He's quiet, not saying a word. The only indication I get that he even heard what I said is the sound of him clearing his throat and how his arm seems to tighten even more around me. 

"Lily?" Arthur says after a few moments of silence. "You need ta stay awake, Sweetpea."

"Tired." I answer, and I don't even try to stay awake. Arthur says something more, his voice urgent but I couldn't try to stay awake any longer even if I truly wanted to. And I don't want to.

* * *

The first thing I notice is that I'm warm. No, not warm, I'm  _sweating_. I'm sweltering. I'm uncomfortable, what seems like my internal organs cooking inside my own body while my skin on the outside is colder than a freezer. My mouth is dry and when I open and close it a few times I feel something pressed to my lips. I open my eyes and see a bottle of something in front of me. Without even questioning it I accept the drink, happy when I find it to be water. Refreshing. 

"Slowly now, slowly." A deep voice behind me says, and I feel a hand brush the loose hair out of my face. I finish drinking and the bottle is lowered from my immediate line of vision so I can see where it is that I'm at. 

I'm inside what looks to be an old cabin, probably the one that Arthur was talking about before everything went to shit. Looking down I find what looks like three blankets, along with Arthur's jacket thrown over my body. There's a fire that's safely tucked over in the fireplace of the cabin. I'm surprised that it's still standing, considering most of the wood and walls of this place looks like it's about to collapse if someone breathed on it wrong. 

"Arthur?" I say quietly, my voice still gross. I cough, wincing at the pain that flares in my throat. 

"I'm here." His voice is right above me, and I look up to see him staring at me. He has bags under his eyes, like he hasn't slept in a while. It's at this moment that I realize that I'm not laying on a bed, because there are no beds in this cabin. No, I'm laying propped up against Arthur's chest on top of our bedrolls from our horses. He's behind me, his arms resting on top of all the blankets and I see his arms are bare. 

"What are you doing?" I ask. My words come out slow. 

"You needed to be warmed up," he explains, "so I thought that I would help. The fire and blankets weren't doin' the trick."

I look out of the corner of my eye before glancing at him with confusion. "You know that  _my_ clothes should have been removed, and not yours, right?"

His face flushes a little bit. "I wasn't sure... I didn't want ta make ya feel... uncomfortable." Arthur trails off, the tension in his voice almost palpable. "'Sides, I only took my shirt off 'cuz I knew that I would get hot with the heat."

I relax. "Well, I appreciate it, but I need to get in dry clothes Arthur. If I don't then I could get pneumonia."

Arthur sighs, gently pushing me forward so that he has enough room to slip out. I let out a hiss of pain as my ribs smart, and press a hand to the area. He stands, looking down at me. 

"What? Ya hurt somewhere else?"

"I hit a rock when I fell down the mountain. I think I bruised myself or some...thing..." I look up, the words dying in my mouth as I get a glimpse of Arthur from the front. 

He looks like he did the day I saw him naked from behind. Or, well, he looks like he did when he confronted me about seeing him naked. He's shirtless, the only clothing he has on are his pants. There aren't any suspenders this time, and I see them discarded at the side of the room. He's absolutely imposing standing there, showing off all that muscle while I sit in a bundle of blankets on the floor, most likely looking like a sloth of some sort. His hair is brushed back from his head, somewhat unkempt from not being brushed and stuffed beneath a hat for hours. 

It can't be  _legal_ how good looking this man is. 

He crouches down and pulls my blanket back, exposing my right leg. I see my pant leg torn from the top of wound down, exposing the rest of my leg. There's a bandage wrapped around my thigh, a few dark marks from where the wound must have continued to bleed. 

"I did patch ya up when I brought ya here." He places his hand on my leg gently, inspecting his work. His fingertips run along the edge of the wrap and I feel sparks shoot through me at the soft touch. He pauses, glancing at me almost as though he felt them as well. 

"That's fine work, right there." 

The corner of his mouth quirks up at my words, that teasing look back in his eye. It's a nice change from the sad look that had been residing there since I was last awake. 

I push the rest of the blankets away from me, simultaneously appreciating the cold air and immediately wanting to cover myself up with them again. Arthur holds out his hands and I take them, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I rub a hand over my stomach, trying to soothe the pain there. "Did you bring my things inside?"

He nods, turning around and picking up my bag from against the wall. I can't help but let my eyes stare at his ass but then I quickly avert them when he turns back to me. He sets it down beside me and I open it up, pulling out some fresh and  _dry_ clothes. The ones I'm wearing now aren't exactly soaked like they were before but they're still moist and uncomfortable. I'm not sure how Arthur was able to stand me laying against him like that. 

I start to unbutton my shirt and Arthur makes a sound, quickly turning his back to me. I raise a brow at him, unsure of what he's doing.

"You could warn a man," he says gruffly. 

I roll my eyes. He's worried about my modesty? I'm not that worried, considering I've seen most of him already. 

"I've practically seen you naked, Arthur. It would only be fair if you saw me."

He doesn't say anything but I do see his hands turn into fists at his sides. I quickly change my top and get out of my pants, but I hesitate on pulling new ones on. It's going to be a pain and this wound shouldn't be covered up right now. The more exposure it has the faster it'll heal. I just pull the blankets back over my lower half and lean back on what Arthur was using as a pillow, letting him know that he can turn around. When he does he doesn't look at me right away but when he finally does he seems relieved. 

"How's your stomach?"

I rub the area, pondering his question. "Could be better, could be worse. I don't think anything's broken."

Arthur sinks down to the ground, resting his arms on his knees as he watches me. We stare at each other for a few seconds as I try to think of something to break the silence. 

"I thought I lost you." His voice is so quiet that I'm not sure that he actually spoke at first. But he did, and what he said tugs at my heart strings. 

I reach a hand out and he takes it between his own without hesitation. "You didn't. I'm right here."

He nods, looking down at where we're connected. He runs his fingers along the backs of my knuckles, warming me up both on the outside and the inside. 

"Lily," he starts, his voice catching slightly. There's an emotion there that I can't quite place but whatever it is clearly is having a strong affect on him. "I woulda never forgave myself if somethin' happened to ya."

"It wasn't your fault, Arthur. I'm fine. You  _found_ me." I reach up with my free hand and wrap it around the back of his neck, tugging him down to me and pressing my forehead against his own. He closes his eyes, letting out a big sigh. I frown, feeling bad that this man who's always so strong was broken by the thought of something possibly happening to me because of him. 

As bad as I may feel, I also can't help but feel happy that he cares for me so much. I see that now. 

"I'm getting cold again," I say to him as I scoot over a little bit, making room on the bedroll for him to join me. He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head as he complies with my silent demand. He lifts the blanket, about to slide in when he freezes and I see his eyes widen somewhat comically. 

"Where the hell are your pants?" He exclaims, staring at what I'm guessing are my bare legs. It's not like I'm completely naked--I'm still wearing underwear. 

"They're not good for my leg right now, and I don't have a skirt or anything so I'm just not going to wear any." When he's still silent I clear my throat and he finally looks up at me, his face going red. "I'm sure this isn't the first time you've seen a woman's legs, so just get in here. You don't have shirt on and I don't have pants on so it's perfect." I place my hand on his waist and tug, only succeeding in pulling him in a little bit. Once he finally comes to realize that I'm not going to put pants on he relaxes a little bit, accepting what is happening. 

He lays down on his back, stretching one arm out so that when I curl up on his chest he can wrap it around me. I curl my arm around his waist, nuzzling my head in the middle of his chest and closing my eyes, letting out a sigh as he begins to warm me up. I lift my right leg up to rest over top of his own, twining them together. He freezes and I think for a moment that maybe I've gone too far.

"Is this okay?"

I hear his heart beat quickly beneath me. "It's better than okay, Darlin'."

My head feels hot and fuzzy and I know that I'm probably going to get sick from this, but right now I'm comfortable and I don't want to think about the shit that I'm going to have to deal with in the days to come. 

Arthur reaches his other hand up and starts to run his fingers through my hair, drawing a sigh from so deep down inside me that I didn't even think it was possible for such a sound to exist. He continues this motion, slowly lulling me to sleep. 

"What are ya doin' to me, woman?" Arthur whispers, and I know it's meant for himself and not me so I don't answer--I just go back to sleep, safe in my cowboy's arms. 

 


	18. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I would first like to start off by apologizing for the long wait. This week was crazy and I started this a few days ago but time got away from me. Nonetheless, the next chapter will be posted by Sunday at the latest! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, and feel free to message me for anything! I'm always happy to hear from you guys!
> 
> I'm going to dedicate this chapter to reddead-unhinged on tumblr, CHECK THEM OUT! They made a drawing of Lily and HOLY SHIT IT'S SO GOOD. I'll put a link at the bottom of this and make sure you go see it! And also shout out to EmberwolfSasha for a suggestion I use later on in this chapter <3
> 
> Question: What kind of songs do you associate with Arthur (or even Arthur and Lily)? I personally think that 'Work Song' by Hozier describes their relationship pretty well. Have a lovely weekend!
> 
> https://reddead-unhinged.tumblr.com/post/182086162007/here-is-some-fan-art-for-meobsessions-for-her

The next time that I wake up I can hardly breathe. My sinuses are so stuffed up that I'm forced to breathe through my mouth, but this results in that drying up faster than the Sahara desert. There's a tight feeling in my chest and a tickle in my throat, and when I cough to try to get rid of it the pain is almost unbearable. I sit up slowly, hating how my body is both hot and cold at the same time and how there's a prevalent ache throughout my entire body. 

"Oh, God," I mumble to myself as I press the back of my hand to my forehead, feeling the heat that comes off from it. I push some of the blankets off my body, needing the relief. I check on my leg, noting how there hasn't been any more bleeding since Arthur treated it. I should probably check on it and see if the bandages need changed. 

Speaking of, where is Arthur? He's not in the cabin. I'm still on the bedroll and am covered in the same blankets as before. I look to the side and see the bottle of water just within my reach. Without hesitating I grab it, lifting it to my mouth and drinking almost half the bottle. I have to stop eventually to breathe again, and the stinging from having to swallow makes me wince. Out of the corner of my eye I see a piece of paper where the bottle was, most likely resting underneath it this whole time. I pick it up, seeing how the one side is ripped. Did Arthur tear this out of his journal?

_Lily,_

_Went out to go hunt the bison--don't even think of following me. I'll be back before you have time to even miss me._

I laugh to myself. Highly unlikely.

_Left you some supplies that should last a few hours. We're supposed to meet up with Charles in a few days, so when I get back we'll need to talk about what we're going to do when I get back._

_Found what you put in my journal. It was a nice surprise. You have a gift for makin ugly people look real nice._

_-Arthur_

I don't even know that I'm smiling widely until I'm finished reading and feel my face begin to hurt. So, he finally found my little drawing? I'm bothered that he called himself ugly but also flattered that he said I made him look nice. Comparing my art skill to his is like comparing a toddler to Picasso. I know that he just said that to make me feel better, and my chest grows warm at the thought. 

I put the drink back down where I found it but keep holding the paper tightly in my hand. The fire is still going strong and won't need any more wood for a few hours at least, so Arthur must not have left too long ago. I really wish I had some tissues right now, but I'll just have to make do with what I have. I lay down, holding the note from Arthur close to my chest as I try to go back to sleep. When Arthur comes back I'll have to see if he has any type of medication I can take--though I'll have to thoroughly inspect it before I even think of trusting whatever type of things they consider 'medicine' in this time.

* * *

A cold blast of air hits me in the face, waking me from my uneasy sleep. I pry my eyes open, wiping away the grossness from the corners of my eyes. I look over to see Arthur stepping in through the door and shutting it quickly behind him, trying to keep as much warm air in as possible. His coat is covered in a light layer of snow and his collar is turned up high against his neck. He takes his hat off, putting it on a side table before shrugging his coat off and draping it over the back of a chair so it can dry. He turns towards me for the first time, tugging his gloves off with his teeth and then tossing them to the side before rubbing them together. I can see their redness from here so I can only imagine how cold he must be. 

"Look who's up," Arthur smirks, bending down to poke at the fireplace before adding another two logs. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are also rosy from the cold weather. It's adorable. 

"Barely," I say, cringing at my own voice. God, my voice is so raspy it sounds like I've smoked three packs a day for ten years. I let out a cough, covering my mouth with my elbow while reaching over for the water that I drank from earlier. I finish the rest of it, appreciating the relief it brings me but also wincing at the pain of having to swallow. 

Arthur looks at me over his shoulder with a frown. "Ya don't sound too good." 

I shrug, putting the empty bottle back down. "Don't feel too good. I probably have a cold--it'll blow over in a few days."

"Did ya get my note?" He asks, standing back up and toeing off his boots. Once he's kicked them off to the side he walks over to me, lowering himself so that he's sitting beside me on the ground. He doesn't try to get under the blankets, leaving them for me instead. 

I nod, reaching under my makeshift pillow and pulling it out. I must have shoved it there in my sleep. I smooth out the creases, looking over his oddly beautiful cursive once more before holding it up to him. "Right here."

He stares at me a moment, one hand stroking his facial hair idly. He reaches over to his bag, rummaging around inside of it for a moment before pulling out his journal finally. He flips through it until reaching the desired page and hesitates, looking back and forth between whatever is there and me for a moment before clearing his throat. 

"So..." his voice trails off, "when exactly did ya go through my things?"

I blush, knowing that when I read his note I was caught going through his journal but I thought that would be the end of it. I didn't expect him to  _confront_ me on it. 

"Well," I begin, looking off to the side, "it was actually one of the days when you were asleep after I patched you up." He tilts his head up as I speak, looking at me closely. "It was just sitting there and... I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. I know it's private to you."

I steel myself and look up at him, expecting anger or annoyance but all I see is curiosity. 

"That long, huh?" He mutters, letting out a sigh and running his finger along a page. I look over and see that it's the drawing of him that I made. "Surprised I didn't catch it sooner." 

"Y-you're not mad?" I'm surprised. If I had the equivalent of a diary and someone went through it and read my personal thoughts I'd be pissed. Which, I suppose, makes me a hypocrite for going through his. 

"Mad?" Now he looks surprised. "If Micah or Marston had gone through this, I'd be downright pissed as hell. But you? Why the hell would I be mad at you?" He shakes his head, flipping a few pages. 

"I don't know." I shrug again. 

There's a bout of silence where neither one of us says anything. When he suddenly lets out a chuckle I look over to him, not quite sure why he's suddenly laughing. 

"So," he says once he's gotten himself under control, "you don't think I'm too bad?"

This time not only does my face heat up, but I feel it spread to my ears and down my neck. "Well, you said it first about me! I just thought it would be funny."

He laughs again when I start talking, and I can't help but smile myself. It's nice to see him like this--majority of the Arthur that I know is serious and constantly being plagued by his duties to the camp. Very rarely does he act this carefree, even at the campfires. Words can't even begin to describe how it makes me feel that he's willing to act like this when he's around me. 

"I didn't say nothin'," he contradicts, shutting his journal and putting it back in his bag, "I wrote some stuff, but never said a word to ya."

I feel the embarrassment heat my body. "Alright, then I'll just act like nothing ever happened since I found your journal."

A mischievous look gets in his eye. "Aw, now I never said I wanted that." He leans forward onto his knees, making his way over to me. "A lotta stuff has happened since ya found that old thing that I couldn't forget if I wanted to."

He's so close now that I can see the individual flecks in his eyes. "Oh yeah?" My voice is barely higher than a whisper, and I have to clear my throat. "Like what?"

He lets out a hum, eyes flickering down to my lips. "How about I show ya?"

My eyes flutter closed as he leans closer, and just when I feel him a breath away I suddenly pull back, holding a hand up to his chest to stop him. 

"Arthur," I cough, shaking my head, "I'm sick. I can't kiss you."

He makes a small pouting face but quickly masks it. "I wouldn't mind."

I go to answer but a sneeze suddenly grabs hold of me and I have to quickly turn to the side so that I don't let it out directly on his face. Once I have myself back under control I face him again, seeing the concern there. 

"I would mind," I answer, tugging the blankets tighter around my waist. 

He frowns, looking me over before suddenly leaning forward. Before I can say anything he's pressing his lips to my forehead, and I let out a sigh as I  _suppose_ that's not too bad. When he pulls back he tucks a strand of hair behind me ear, his fingers lingering down my jaw before dropping his hand. 

"Well," he mutters, pushing off his knees and standing back up, "that just ruined what I had planned for the next couple of hours, so..."

My eyes widen at the implication of his words. "And  _what_ would that be?"

He grins down at me, winking but not saying a word. Alright, now I'm a little disappointed that I stopped him. 

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" 

I run my hands over my face, trying to get myself back under control. "Of course."

He coughs, and I see that he's fidgeting a little bit. "Where, uh... Now, I've seen..." He frowns down at his shoes, struggling to find the right words. "Ya know what? Never mind."

"Oh, no," I tell him when he turns his back to me and tries to end the conversation there, "you started something so now you have to finish it. You know you can ask me anything, Arthur."

He's quiet for a moment before he somewhat reluctantly turns back to me. "Those...  _britches_ you're wearin' are somethin' I've never seen before. That a Pennsylvania thing?" He stumbles over the word 'britches', and I feel my entire flush with heat that I almost throw off the blankets completely to try to save me from dying of embarrassment. 

My underwear is from my time--it's the only pair that I have and I prefer them over what they have now, considering what they  _do_ have now is basically another pair of pants. Not the most comfortable thing to wear under my men's clothes. What I have is basically a pair of boy shorts, but I'm sure to someone who isn't used to women wearing that sort of thing they must be quite shocking for someone else to see. Since this is the only pair that I have I do own some other things that Mary-Beth and Tilly helped me find, but I do my laundry a lot so it's not often that I have to wear the other stuff. 

"Uh," I say, my voice hoarse, "yeah. It's a Pennsylvania thing, I guess."

He nods at the ground. When he finally turns and looks me in the eye the intensity that I find nearly takes what little air I have away. 

"I'm startin' to like Pennsylvania more 'n more." He glances down at my covered legs one more time before fixing his attention on the fire and tending to it. 

Jesus Christ, I've never met a man like Arthur Morgan who can make me feel like this. He makes me flustered, angry, want to protect, and  _burn_ inside all at once. It's jarring how much I've come to rely on this man, how I want to be around him all the time. Back home there were never any men who made me feel like this, who made me  _want_ something more with them. Sure, there were a few long and serious relationships, but Arthur makes me feel like they never could make me feel. Wanted. Special. And, dare I say it?

Loved. 

I'm not even sure if that's how Arthur feels towards me. Clearly there's something going on between us, telling by the kiss and the way he treats me like I'm the only thing that matters to him. But, that doesn't necessarily mean he loves me. Do I love him? I don't know. I've know Arthur for almost two months, but we're just now beginning to express our feelings. I don't know. There's so much happening and I feel like it's happening so  _fast_ that I barely have time to process it anymore. 

"Did you get it?"

"Huh?" He glances at me over his shoulder. 

"The bison--did you get it?"

He seems to get very excited all of a sudden. "Oh, he was a beaut." He stands and goes over to pull his journal out once more, flipping through it until he finds what he wants. He hands the book to me and I see a sketch he made of what I'm guessing is the bison. Arthur's talent once more blows me away with all the details that he puts into his drawings, how he perfectly captures what it is he sees. The bison is a grand animal, huge and covered in fur. The horns are intimidating and if I didn't see Arthur in front of me and know that he was okay then I might be a little worried about him going against the beast. It looks like the background is on a frozen lake, the bison standing grandly on the ice. 

"This is beautiful, Arthur." I don't even try to hide the awe from my voice. What I say is true. 

"He wasn't that hard to track," Arthur ignores my compliment, probably too shy to acknowledge it, "found him not too far from here. Took two shots but I got him. His pelt is packed away and sitting outside the cabin." 

I can't help myself from turning back a page in the journal, even though we  _just_ had a discussion of me going through his things. I just barely get a glimpse of something before Arthur is snatching the journal out of my hand. 

"Was..." I trail off, watching as he closes the journal, "was that me?"

I'm not sure if it's from the fire or something else entirely, but I think I see a faint redness dust his cheeks. "Was just somethin' I saw."

"Can I see?"

Arthur pauses, glancing down at me. He sighs, gently hitting me with his foot so that I get the hint to make room for him. I move over, lifting the side of the blanket like I did earlier so that he can scoot under. His legs are somewhat chilly, and it's a nice change to the heat that mine have been trapping beneath this blanket. I press against his side, feeling him wrap his right arm around my waist so that he can hold me in place. He uses his other hand to open the journal back up, flipping to the page that I tried to get a glimpse of. 

"Ya just looked so peaceful. Couldn't help myself."

My heart gets caught in my throat when I finally see what he was trying to hide from me. This must have been from when Arthur left to go hunting. It's a drawing of me, asleep on the bedroll. He must have altered the drawing somewhat because I highly doubt I look this angelic when I sleep. I'm laying on my side, one hand tucked beneath my cheek on the pillow. My hair is fanned out behind me and the blankets are pulled up to my shoulders. I think I look better in this drawing than I do in the mirror. 

"Arthur, you're a very talented man. Anytime you feel like using your gift on me, feel free. I would love for you to draw me." I look up, finding him staring at me. His expression, though not concerning, is still serious. He must have been watching me this entire time. 

"I know you're sick," he says quietly, "but I really wanna kiss ya."

I can't help but smile at that, giggling softly. I lean forward, pressing my lips lightly to his. One little kiss won't do that much damage, right? His lips are chapped like mine, but they're still soft. It's nice kissing Arthur, both calming and exciting at the same time. After a few seconds he tries to deepen it but I pull back, shaking my head and giggling again when he groans. 

"No more. I won't have you getting sick."

He closes his eyes tightly, sighing as he lets his head fall back. "That's just teasin' and I don't like it."

I press a small kiss to his cheek and then rest my head against his shoulder, snuggling in closely. "Just think of it this way--there'll be more like that when I'm not sick anymore."

"Then ya better start feelin' better real soon, Darlin'. I'm not a patient man."

He brings his other arm up and encloses me completely in his hold. I close my eyes, sighing as his presence surrounds me. He presses his face to the top of me head, pressing a kiss there. I know that I just woke up from being asleep for majority of the day but I'm tired again already. The combination of a roaring fire and Arthur's body heat lulls me to sleep, his heart beat a pleasant sound beneath my ear. 

"I have a surprise for ya, but I'll show ya that later." 

"Okay." I murmur, feeling him shift so that we're now laying down instead of sitting up. I adjust so that I'm laying on his chest once more, kind of in a similar fashion that we were last night. I wrap my hand around his side, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt beneath my touch. 

"Just go to sleep, Lily. I'll be here when ya wake up."

* * *

"Never had it."

"Never!?"

Arthur peers at me from across the tiny table in the cabin. Our breakfast the next morning isn't anything big, just some simple oatmeal that we made. He's still wearing his pants and shirt from yesterday. After I changed my dressings on my leg I decided it was well enough that I could put some pants on, though I think Arthur was a little disappointed by that. I keep one of the blankets still pulled tightly around my shoulders as I sit on the wooden chair, still feeling random bouts of hot and cold. 

"Not everyone can eat fancy."

_"Chicken alfredo_ is  _not_ a fancy meal." 

Arthur shrugs, stirring his food around for a moment before shoving a spoonful in his mouth. "Pearson ain't too fancy with his cookin'."

I put my elbow on the table, resting my chin in my hand. "I'll just have to make it for you sometime."

He raises an eyebrow. "Ya cook?"

I scoff, giving my attention back to my food. "I do a lot of things. Haven't I told you before that there was a lot you don't know about me?"

His mouth stretches into a smile. "If I remember correctly, the night you told me that is also the first night you ended up in my bed."

"Hm, I think I'm done eating now." I wave off his comment, much to his amusement. I smile as I slip my boots on quickly. 

"Where ya goin'?"

"I'm going to throw this food outside. Don't want it to sit inside." I tug the blanket tightly around me and open the door just as Arthur stands. 

"Lily, wait--"

When I open the door a blast of cold air hits me in the face. I scrunch my face up against it, feeling my eyes immediately begin to water. I step out onto the porch and dump the last few bites of oatmeal onto the ground, looking around briefly. Winston and Chewie are hitched over by a small building, a shed or something. There's a bucket of water and some hay in front of them to eat. I'm glad that Arthur made sure they're properly taken care of in this awful weather, I can only imagine that they dislike the cold as much as we do. 

I'm about to go back inside when something on the other side of the shed catches my eye. I don't know how I didn't see it immediately, considering how well it stands out. 

It's the white horse. 

There's a lasso around her neck and she's tied to the side of the building, eating from a separate hay bale. She has enough rope that she could join Winston and Chewie if she wanted but she seems content to be semi-secluded. 

She's even prettier in the daylight and when I can actually see properly. Her coat is a stark whiter, almost more so than the snow on the ground. There's a black dusting of color on her muzzle and near her hooves, the only thing that really differentiates her from the whiteness that surrounds us. 

"She was the surprise." Arthur says from behind me. I look back to see him smiling down at me, another blanket in his hands. He throws it over my shoulders on top of the one I'm already wearing. I'm thankful that he somehow knew that I would be outside for more than just one minute and grabbed another blanket for me. "She wasn't the easiest to track, but I know that ya talked about her so I thought I'd try to find her for ya."

My mouth opens and closes a few times as I struggle to find the right words to say. "Arthur...I... I don't know what to say."

"A 'thank you' will d--"

I cut him off as I lean up and kiss him. His eyes fly open as I take him off guard, but he's quick to adapt to the situation. He places his hands on my back and tugs me close, settling against me as he kisses me back. I pull back and smile widely up at him, feeling tears burn my eyes--a different type of tear now. Arthur has already done so much for me, more than anyone else ever has, and now he went and got the horse that I mentioned to him in my delirious state? For all he knew the animal could have been a figment of my imagination, but he went looking anyways.

"A thank you will  _not_ be enough. I owe you, Arthur."

His face softens and and grins lazily down at me, still holding onto me. "Ya don't owe me nothin', Darlin'. Go say hi to your horse." He lets go of me and nods towards the horse. 

I lean up and give him one more kiss--this sickness be  _damned_ \--and move quickly down the steps, walking carefully over to where the horses are. I don't want to spook her. 

Winston and Chewie raise their heads from their meals, looking at me for a moment before going back to eating. I pet them in passing, walking around the building and stopping when I'm a few feet away from her. She stops what she was doing, watching me carefully like she did the other day. 

"Hey girl," I say softly, walking forward slowly. I stretch my hand out, letting her sniff my hand before I work it up her nose to her forehead, scratching gently between her ears. She turns towards me, nudging me gently with her head. "You're  _beautiful_."

I run my hand across her mane and down her neck, feeling her muscles ripple beneath my touch. I see now that she must be an Arabian, a very powerful horse even though the size might suggest otherwise. In fact, I think this horse is similar to Dutch's, The Count. I wonder how he'll react to that.

I look over to where Arthur is standing on the porch and watching the interaction. He's smiling, hands resting on his suspenders. I grin at him, letting out a laugh as he smiles back. 

"Whatcha gonna name her?" He calls. 

I turn back and look her over, thinking. I had a tough time thinking of a name for Chewie and now I have to think of  _another_ one? I don't know, maybe this one should be something different. She needs a beautiful name to fit her looks. Something that has a lot of meaning, something that I cherish. 

A smile crawls across my face as I finally decide on one. I turn back to him, clearing my throat so it doesn't crack when I yell to be heard over the wind. 

"Bishop," I call, and he grins. The horse nudges me again with her head, almost as if she's approving of it as well. 

"Like the church guy?"

I laugh. Of course that's what he would think of. Bishop Hospital--my second home back in my time. A place where I built a family, a place where I would be able to live out my dream of helping save peoples' lives. Where I was able to find my place in the world, to find what I love to do. 

"No," I shake my head, "it's the name of a place. A very special place."

He nods his head at me, going along with whatever I say. "Sounds like a good name to me."

He doesn't know the story behind the name and he's probably confused as all hell as to why I picked that name, but he's fine with it. He doesn't try to question it. He doesn't question  _me_.

I think I do love this man. 


	19. Time to Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you all go! So I actually have no classes tomorrow, so it's possible that I might have another chapter for you guys sooner than Wednesday. 
> 
> Just wanted to let you guys know that sometime in the next couple of chapters there is going to be some...interesting things that happen. You'll just have to wait and see... ;)
> 
> Question: Would you like me to continue on with my own side stories, or do you want me to continue on with chapter 3? I hope you have a great Sunday!

Two days later I'm feeling much better thanks to Arthur's help. He had some things packed away that Miss Grimshaw had given him, and although it hadn't done much, it did enough to get me back on my feet so that we can go out to meet up with Charles. Arthur packed all of our things up, loading them onto the horses and making sure I was properly clothed for the cold weather before even thinking of going outside for longer than ten minutes. It's cute how he can be a mother-hen when he wants to be. 

"Ya all set?" Arthur asks, tightening the saddle on Winston as he looks over at me. 

I pull myself up to Chewie's back, making sure that Bishop is secured alongside him so that she'll have a buddy on the way back. "I'm good. Charles has probably been waiting for us for a while. We should keep moving while it's early."

Arthur nods, climbing up onto Winston and turning him to face back the way we came. Making sure I'm following behind him we set off back towards Valentine. 

We go slower on the way back, just to make it easier on the horses since they're carrying a lot of weight, and to make sure that there aren't any problems with Bishop since no one is riding her and she's only tied to Chewie's bridle. She seems fine, doesn't mind being around the other horses and isn't spooked by Arthur and I. I know that she's going to need some training before I can even think of saddling her up, but Arthur offered to help me with her. If it means that I get to spend more time with him? Hell yeah he can help.

The cold is just as intense as it was when we were first making our way up the mountain. This time Arthur is much more cautious regarding our surroundings, always checking and making sure to listen closely in case there are any predators around so that we don't have a repeat of last time. We only have to stop a few times, and each time that we do he checks on me to make sure that I'm okay. I reassure him that I'm fine each time, but on the inside I'm loving the attention. I just wonder if he'll still be like this when we get back in front of everyone else at camp.

When we finally get to the bottom of the mountain and the weather warms a little bit we stop once more so that we can change into appropriate clothing for the rest of the trip. The horses need to be fed and watered so it's a good time to take a short rest. We set up a small camp, just getting out some things to eat. 

"I imagine you'll want to go into town to the doctor there, see if they have anything to make ya feel better." Arthur wanders over to me, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his box of cigarettes. He takes one out and places it between his lips, about to light it when I grab it and throw it on the ground. 

"Smoking is a very bad habit, Arthur Morgan."

Arthur frowns at me, tucking the box of cigarettes away. "Why is it that ya say my full name like that?"

I reach in and take out the box, tossing it to the side where it lands on top of my bag. He goes to walk over to retrieve it but I stop him by placing a hand on his chest. "I only use it when I'm trying to get a point across to you. It seems that's the only thing that works."

"Makes me feel like you're talkin' to a child."

"Aw," I say, reaching up and patting my hand on the side of his face, "and here I thought you liked baby talk?"

He grabs my hand with one of his own, stilling it against his cheek. He turns his head and presses a light kiss to my palm, changing the moment from teasing to intense in the span of three seconds. The look he gives me heats me up inside, and I know that in this moment I want to do nothing more than jump on him. But I restrain myself--I'm still getting over this cold and even though he may say he's fine, I don't want to have him stress his arm for at least another couple of days. 

"Baby talk ain't my style," his voice is low, and he takes a step closer to me, "but sweet-talkin' is."

"You sweet talk everyone, then?" My voice is quiet as I keep glancing from his eyes down to the way his mouth curves up slowly into a smile.

"No," He runs his nose gently against mine, "just you."

We both reach forward at the same time to press our lips on one another's. My hands move up to the top of his head, knocking his hat off and onto the ground in the process. He pulls me tightly against him and I do the same. His skin is warm beneath my fingertips, the sun beginning to warm us up as we travel farther. Arthur's kiss heats me up both outside and inside, and so I act on impulse as I part my lips so that he can push his tongue inside to brush against my own. A soft groan crawls up from the back of my throat as the brush turns firmer, electric and delicious as we both seem to search for the sensual feeling that is running through our bodies. 

He finally pulls back, the both of us panting as we try to get our breathing back under control. He cups my face with one of his hands, brushing his thumb softly across my lips as I stare up into his eyes. I place my own hands on either side of his face, keeping him still while I lean up one more time and softly kiss him. When we part he lets out a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. I've noticed that this is something he does when he likes to be particularly close with me, not just physically but more emotionally. Arthur doesn't show a lot of his emotions, but I've learned that he does so in ways that people might not notice unless they're looking for it.

"Arthur," I say, holding onto the collar of his jacket so that he'll focus on me--not that he wasn't doing that already, "we never talked about, well, us."

Arthur takes a deep breath and I feel his chest expand against my own as he does so. "Guess we didn't."

He doesn't say anything more. I raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate but I suppose he must be waiting for me to say something first. 

"Back where I come from there's this...question, I suppose, that people who are kind of..." I feel so awkward trying to talk about this. Usually the guys that I was in a relationship with back in my time wouldn't be afraid to ask me to be in a relationship. Or be together. Or be something with me. "Okay, you know what? I'll just say it. What are we, Arthur? I won't be some woman that's toyed with and tossed to the side. That's not how things work with me."

He looks shocked by my abruptness. I take a step away from him, crossing my hands in front of my chest. "Ya know, I don't think I've ever known a lady quite like you before."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. "Arthur..."

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, grasping my arms in his hands, "I'm just teasin' ya." His thumbs brush up and down in a soothing patter, taking away some of the anxiety that was beginning to build up in my chest. 

I narrow my eyes. "And you say that I do that to you a lot."

One corner of his mouth quirks up. "The truth is, Miss Lily Edwards, before you walked into my life I was fine. I was happy."

"So you're saying I ruined your life?"

He shakes his head. "Would ya let me finish?" I nod, and he continues. "Then this woman from Pennsylvania worms her way into my life and changes everything. I suddenly care about how I smell and how I look and whether or not the words that come out of my mouth are nice or not."

I'm taken slightly off guard. I didn't know that I affected him that much. 

I slide my hands inside of his jacket and around his back, stepping closer to him than I was before. "I have to admit, Mr. Morgan, that when we first met I thought you hated me."

"Hated ya?" I nod my head. "Nah, I didn't hate ya. You didn't give me no reason to. I was cautious, didn't trust ya, but I never hated nobody that don't deserve it."

He leans down closer to my face, his eyes roaming over every feature of my face. "You make me happier than I've been in a long time--I've already told you as much." 

He did tell me that. Before we kissed the first time we had a short discussion about the two of us but it was cut off by him kissing me and then Dutch calling for him to talk. I'm still a little salty that the moment was interrupted like that. 

"That you have."

"So then I guess there's just one last thing to ask, all while hopin' that I make you feel the same way that bein' around you makes me feel." One of his hands tilts my head upwards so that he can see me better. There's a vulnerability in his gaze that I've never seen before, not even when he was talking about Mary Linton. I get the feeling that in this moment I have the power to either make this man, or break him.

"Will you be mine, Lily Edwards?"

From what I can barely remember, the only romantic interaction that Arthur has with anyone is Mary. Not the other women in the camp, not even the prostitutes that Charles and Javier and them seem to hook up with from time to time. Arthur is a man with a plan and that doesn't involve any romantic partner. The fact that he's deciding that I'm worthy of being someone he would let into his life makes me feel like nothing before. Because this is a man who has been there for me, and I for him. He's saved my life like I've saved his, and there aren't any words in the dictionary to describe that the two of us have made. 

Arthur is a sweet, handsome, and attentive man. He's not stubborn and coarse like John, and he's more willing to stick up for what's right than most men in this time period. I never thought that when I came here that I would eventually be standing at the bottom of a mountain with this man, wrapped up in his arms and feeling safer and happier than I did when I was back in my own time. 

For the first time since I've been here, I don't miss my home. Because to me, Arthur gives me the same feeling. 

Arthur is my home.

I lean up and press my lips to his and he instantly reciprocates. There's no pausing, no hesitation. 

"Oh, Arthur," I pull back a little breathlessly, my face a hair's width away from his, "you're an idiot for thinking I would say no."

He grins. "I wouldn't expect any different answer from you."

We embrace again, and I acknowledge in the back of my mind that we've been kissing. A lot. At least in the past three days. Well, actually, more like in the past ten minutes. 

Arthur twists his hips somewhat so that his foot is suddenly between my own, his knee pressing between my legs. He makes a deep noise in the back of his throat when I lean further into him. A swarm of butterflies move in my chest when I realize I can feel just how much he seems to be enjoying our make out sessions.

"Someone's happy," I murmur as he starts to pepper kisses along my jaw, his hands slowly making their way further and further down my back. 

"Oh, Darlin', if only you knew what ya do to me." He places one last kiss on my lips before stepping back, clearing his throat as he bends down to pick up his hat that is still laying in the snow. He brushes the white stuff off before placing it back on top of his head. He wouldn't be Arthur Morgan if he didn't have that damned hat. 

"Charles is waiting," I say, smirking as he tries to discreetly adjust his pants. I notice it, try as he might to hide it. I head towards my bag and bend over to get some food out when I feel a sharp smack on my ass. I jolt upwards with a gasp, hand moving to cover the area as I turn to see Arthur whistling while he walks over to Winston. "Arthur Morgan!"

He glances at me over his shoulder, winking. "Sorry Sweetpea, but I couldn't help myself. Knowin' what you got on under them things and havin' gotten a peek at it is just too much temptation. 'Sides," he walks over to Winston's saddle, facing me while he begins to dig around in the saddlebag, "you looked real good bent over like that."

My mouth drops open as my face burns at his crude comments. As embarrassed and angered that he did that that I know I should be feeling right now, I can't help but also be a little...turned on. 

If he wants to play like that, then that's fine by me. 

Game on, Arthur Morgan.

* * *

 

We ride for a while more, reaching Valentine just around dinnertime. He takes me to the stables there so that I can get some stuff for Bishop. She doesn't like to have cargo on her back right now because she's not used to it, so after Arthur sold the bison pelt to the butcher in town, getting a good price for it that's sure to make Dutch happy, he helped me to buy some supplies for her and get her fitted with horseshoes. 

"That's a fine horse ya got there," the stable hand says, nodding towards Bishop. 

I smile at him. "Thank you."

"I'll give you a pretty penny for her."

I shake my head. "She's not for sale."

"If ya ever change your mind, you know where to find me." He nods and then walks into one of the stalls to start feeding the other animals.

I lead Bishop over to the stall that is currently housing Winston. Arthur and I decided that since we are staying the night here that we should let the horses have somewhere warm to stay instead of just hitching them somewhere. Plus, I don't understand how people can just trust others not to steal their animals while they're nothing more than tied to a piece of wood in front of the hotel. Once Bishop is happily settled beside Chewie I walk back outside and head towards the doctor's office. Arthur is currently waiting for me in the saloon so that we can get a real meal to eat, but he insisted that I go check for some real medication for this cold. 

The piano in the saloon is loud and the music drifts through the swinging doors and outside, drawing people in with it's happiness in the somber night. On my way past the window I can just barely see Arthur leaning against the bar in the throng of people. I didn't realize that this many people actually lived in Valentine, unless everyone decided to gather on this night for some specific reason. 

I push open the door to the doctor, the bell ringing above my head. There's an older man standing at the front desk and he looks up, looking excited that someone is coming in at this hour. His smile wavers slightly as he looks me up and down, a furrow appearing for just a moment as he stares at my pants. 

"Is there somethin' I can help you with today?"

I walk up to the counter, pulling the book that has a list of all his supplies up in front of me. I flip it open, going through the different items until I find some tonics that I think will be somewhat safe for me to ingest. Most of the items have some questionable mixtures inside, so I make a mental note that when I get back to camp I'm going to go through all the medical supplies and make a list of possible items people can bring me so maybe I can make some actual  _good_ things for people to take. 

"I'll just take two of these, please." I point to the name in the book and turn it around for him to read. He raises a brow at me, unsure if I'm being serious or not.

"You sure about that? That's some powerful med--"

"Two, please." My tone is passive-aggressive, so I throw in a smile at the end, strained as it might be. The clergyman simply closes the book without another word and reaches beneath the desk. There's a sounds of glass bottles clinking against one another before he puts two small bottles of what I asked for on the desk and I hand him my money. 

"Only drink half a bottle at a time. When you drink it you'll get very tired so be careful with that." 

"I will, thank you." I nod at him and slip the bottles into my bag, rushing to make my way out and away from that man. He gave me a weird feeling, and his eyes were too shifty for me. 

He wasn't kidding about how this medicine will make me tired, though. The ingredients in this will pack a punch, so I'll just get some dinner and then go to the hotel before I take the medicine. 

I push through the doors to the saloon, the smell of different foods and burning firewood. This place is filled with men who have just come from theirs jobs and are looking for something to help them relax. Groups of them are huddled around tables, some enjoying a hot meal and some letting loose with a good game of poker. I also spot some working women who are leaning closer than normal to some of the lone men, probably hoping that they'll get them drunk enough they can lead them back to their bedrooms and rob them blind. 

Arthur is still in the same position that I last saw him so I go over to the bar, squeezing between him and the burly man on the other side. Arthur glances at me out of the corner of his eye, a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand. He winks at me as he takes a swig, placing the drink back down on the counter. 

"Can I get a beer for the lady here?" Arthur calls to the bartender, throwing a quarter on the wood. The man finishes wiping out a glass and nods. 

"How about I get ya a real drink?" The man on my other side inserts, turning and leaning on his side on the edge of the bar. He appears to be a little older than me, and bigger than Arthur--though not in regards to muscles, that's for sure. He's got a long and unkempt beard on his face, bits of food and other items scattered throughout. He's drunk, his eyes not quite focusing on me even though he's talking to me.

A brief look of disgust crosses my face before I shake my head, trying to ignore him. The bartender places the beer in front of me and pops the lid off. I grab it and lift it to my mouth but a hand suddenly tugs my waist to the side and the liquid spills out onto the floor below me. 

"Hey!" I call, slamming my drink on the counter and ripping his arm off of me. The man stumbles slightly from the sudden movement, obviously out of it. 

Arthur straightens up and steps forward, pushing me behind him. "Did she say you could do that?"

"Didn't ask you."

"I'm  _tellin'_ you." Arthur's voice lowers to a snarl. 

The other man says nothing, and then a moment later he's falling backwards onto the floor, out cold. I peer down at him to find he's snoring as he lays there, some of the other people at the bar watching him with a bored look on their face, like this isn't an unusual occurrence. 

I grab my drink with one hand and Arthur's arm with the other, telling the bartender that we'll have two orders of the cod fish and handing him some money before dragging him over to a table by the windows. Arthur follows me without any resistance, and when we get to our destination he pulls out my chair for me, smirking the whole time. 

"M'lady." He gives a grand wave of his hand, and I giggle at the action. I sit down while he walks around to his own chair, settling down with a sigh as he splays his legs out in front of him, setting his hat down on the table between us. 

"You know, guys can be such pigs sometimes." I look briefly to where the man is still passed out on the ground, shaking my head. It's sad, if anything. 

"I take offense to that." Arthur raises a brow and tips his drink at me. 

I narrow my eyes. "You know what I mean. Back home I would have him arrested for harassment but I realize that's not really a thing here." My voice trails off at the end and I stare down at the table while I take a drink. Sometimes I forget that women aren't really thought of as their own person in this time. They're considered more of a half a person, if that. Sadie is one of the few women that I know that defy against that norm, that try to make a stance against the stereotype of a woman who's better for nothing but staying home and taking care of her husband. If Arthur weren't here and that man had tried to make another pass at me I would've hit him, and more than likely I would have gotten in trouble rather than the man. 

"Hey," Arthur says quietly, leaning forward to take my hand in his own, "get outta your head. I won't let anythin' happen to ya." Arthur briefly glances over to the other man. "I agree with ya on him, though. He's nothin' more than a pig."

I smile at him. "I know." 

Our food arrives shortly after, and compared to the cooking that Pearson normally makes for the camp this is a five star meal. Arthur gets two more beers while we're there, and I have to say that I'm actually enjoying myself. The music is upbeat and helps to make for an enjoyable night. Plus I get to eat a nice, hot meal with Arthur while we talk and laugh about everything and nothing. If I were back home I would almost consider this a romantic date. Considering Arthur and I are now...together...I guess that this is a date? I'm not sure. I'd like to think that he would do something a little fancier than this, but there's still a lot about this man that I have to learn.

Once we're done eating we both get our things and head over to the hotel, Arthur stumbling over his feet in the process. I laugh, moving over to him and wrapping my arm around his waist. He throws his arm across my shoulder so that he won't fall flat on his face in the mud. We get inside and the clerk looks up at us, not even fazed by the two of us. 

"One room, if ya would." Arthur pulls me closer against him, reaching out to take the key from the other man. 

"I need a bath, as well." I tell him, stopping Arthur from having us walk away. 

"You can head down the hall and there will be one ready in a few minutes." 

I thank the man and then lead Arthur over to the stairs to where our room is. When we get inside I let him sit on the edge of the bed where he flops back on the mattress. It's a nice size, not too small, just big enough for the two of us. I'm a little surprised he asked for one room instead of two but I'm not really complaining that much. In fact, I'm not complaining at all.  

"Stay here," I tell him, pointing a finger in his direction. He grins at me and chuckles. I head back downstairs and grab our belongings, lugging them back to our room. Arthur is still on the bed with one of his arms thrown across his face. I don't think he's sleeping, but I can tell he's almost there. With a small laugh and a shake of my head I get out some clean clothing and head downstairs to the bath suite. 

The steam from hot water is a pleasant change from the cold that's been surrounding me for the past few days. I strip out of my clothing, throwing them off to the side and slipping into the water. A sigh escapes me as the hot water relaxes me as soon as it touches me. I sink down to my shoulders, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the edge of the tub. There's a small table off to the side and I pop the top off the scented bottle. I put a few drops in the water, finding the lilac smell pleasant. I can only imagine how bad I must have smelled the past few days, and poor Arthur had to put up with it. 

Then again, Arthur could use a bath too. 

I clean up, washing my hair and making sure that nothing is left untouched. I get out of the rapidly-cooling water and dress quickly, not wanting to risk anyone walking in on me. I slip out and go back up to our room. Arthur is knocked out, his hat on his face as he snores softly beneath it. He still has his gun holster and weapons belt on, along with his boots and work clothes. 

I discard my clothes on top of my belongings and then walk back over to the grown man who was too drunk to undress himself. I roll my eyes but lightly take his hat off his face, smiling to myself as he doesn't stir. I reach down and undo his gun holster and belt, pulling them out of the loops on his pants and gently laying them off to the side on the desk. His lower legs are hanging off the edge of the bed, so it makes it a little harder to take his boots off but I manage. I decide to leave his pants and shirt on. 

I go over and open one of the tonics, taking a deep breath before I swallow some of it. The liquid is thick and chalky and tastes  _disgusting_. Once I'm done I cough, shaking my head and wishing I had something to wash all that down with. I cork it up again and put it alongside the other bottle, blowing out the last candle and walking over to the bed. I pull the blanket back on one side, looking at Arthur. He's literally sprawled out in the middle of the bed, so he needs to be moved. 

"Arthur," I say quietly, running my hand through his hair. He takes in a breath of air, turning towards me. "Get under the blankets. I need you to move."

Arthur slowly blinks his eyes open, peering up at me. He grunts, flipping onto his stomach and crawling up until he's at the head of the bed. I help him slide underneath and he settles with his back to me. Alright then. 

I crawl under the blankets and lay on my side, tucking one hand under my head and closing my eyes. I can already feel the affects of that tonic taking over, making me feel drowsy. 

After a few minutes of silence when I think that I'm starting to fall asleep Arthur suddenly rolls over and presses against my back. He wraps one arm over my waist and tugs me close against his chest. He nuzzles his nose against the back of my neck, breathing in. 

"Ya smell good," he presses a kiss to my shoulder, settling in behind me, "real good." He tugs the blankets up higher around us and I lean back against him, falling asleep with a smile on my face. 


	20. Camp Fires and Camp Fights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! A midnight chapter because this was almost done and I decided to post it instead of sleeping lol. I like having a little drama and angst, so this chapter has some of that. In the next chapter there will hopefully be a surprise, granted that everything comes out the way I want it to...stay tuned. 
> 
> Shout out to Nimtheriel for making a freakin' PLAYLIST!? It's amazing. Check it out!
> 
> Big question: explicit smut or implied? (we all know it's gonna happen) I can do both, though I'm better at the latter than the former LMAO. If you do want explicit, I could always just put a line in so that those of you who aren't comfortable with it can just skip right past and you won't have missed anything important.

Arthur went and found Charles the next morning. He had been waiting for only a day for us so I don't feel that bad for making us stay in the mountains a little longer than planned. Arthur explained to him that I had gotten sick but mercifully left out the whole 'wolves' incident. Though I realize that it was out of my control and I couldn't help that I was bucked off of Chewie, it's still a little embarrassing to have felt so weak in that situation. If it hadn't been for Arthur I would have died out there, and so for him I am eternally grateful, but I need to work on bettering myself. I need to make sure that if I'm ever in a predicament like that ever again that I can try to do something so that I don't always have to rely on him being there to save me. 

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Bill calls from where he's standing guard, "'bout time you folks showed up." 

"Aw," Arthur coos, "did ya miss me, Williamson?"

Bill's face scrunches up as we ride past him. He scowls at Arthur and spits the chew out of his mouth to the side. I shake my head. They never learn. 

"Arthur! Charles! Lily!" Dutch greets, a smile on his face and hands spreading out to his sides. He walks out from where he was standing next to Molly in his tent, gaining the attention of the other's in camp. "Welcome back!"

"Good to be back, Dutch." Arthur sighs and dismounts, hitching Winston to the post alongside Taima. I do the same and untie Bishop from Chewie's bridle, leading her over and tying her to a different post. Dutch walks over, peering at me as Arthur slips the money from the bison into his hand. 

"That's a mighty fine horse there, Lily." Dutch nods at Bishop, appraising my animal. 

"I know," I smile, brushing my hand across her cheek. "Arthur caught her for me."

Dutch turns to Arthur with a raised brow. Arthur merely shrugs in return, trying to act nonchalant but I can see the smile in his eyes. 

"She's the one who found it," he explains, "I just went and lassoed 'er."

"Miss Lily!" My attention is pulled to the side as a tiny voice calls my name. A grin breaks out across my face as I see Jack running over to me, Cain hot on his heels. I bend down and open my arms for him to run into and pull him close, lifting him into the air as his childish laughter surrounds us. His tiny arms wrap around my neck as he hugs me back and I feel Cain jump up on me, either trying to hug me in his own fashion or pry me off of the boy. 

"Hello, little man." I pull back, grinning at him. 

"Miss Lily, now that you're back does that mean you can teach me to swim?" Jack's eyes are bright as he asks this, obviously excited by the idea of it all. 

I laugh, setting him back down on the ground and ruffling his hair. He giggles and brushes me off. "Of course. Once I get settled back in that'll be the first thing I do."

I glance up to find Arthur and Dutch watching the two of us, easy-going smiles on their faces. Jack takes my hand in his own and tugs and I'm once more focused on the little boy. He pulls me over to the tents and I make a note to myself to come back later and get my things from Chewie so that I can put them back in my tent. Jack leads me to his and Abigail's tent, where the woman is sitting on the cot and sewing up one of the men's shirts. When she sees me approaching she stops, a smile breaking out. She stands up and opens her arms and I let go of Jack to hug her. I didn't realize that I would be so missed by some of the members of camp here, but I have to admit that it's nice. 

"Sit, sit!" Abigail goes back to where she was on the cot, patting the area beside her. I sit down and let out a sigh as Jack comes up to his mother, clutching some of her skirt in his tiny fists. 

"Miss Lily said she would teach me how to swim, Mama!" 

Abigail smiles. "I know. Now why don't ya run off so that Miss Lily and I can talk? Go on, now." She shoos him away and he takes off, Cain following behind him obediently. We watch him for a moment before she turns to me, an expectant look on her face. "Now, talk."

"About what?"

"Oh, don't give me that." She shakes her head at me. "You look different--either something happened or you're sick."

"Well, I am actually sick. Getting over it really, but it wasn't fun up there for a few days." 

Her features pull down. "I'm sorry, hun. I know that must've been somethin' awful."

There's a rustle at the opening of the tent and suddenly Mary-Beth and Tilly are here and hugging me as well, welcoming me back to camp. They tell me that Karen is off somewhere with Sean (big surprise) and that Sadie went into Rhodes for some supplies. Pretty soon the four of us are settled in and they're all expecting me to tell them everything that happened. 

"Well, Arthur got the bison--"

"No, not that." Tilly waves her hand, dismissing my words. "You and Arthur. Did anythin' happen?"

"Bein' alone in the woods for a few days? I can only imagine the possibilites." Mary-Beth giggles, and I can just see the gears in her writer's mind turning.

"Hush you two," Abigail scolds, her voice low. She looks around outside the tent to see if there's anyone around. "Do ya want Arthur to hear? Or Grimshaw? I know she told y'all to help Pearson today."

Mary-Beth and Tilly share a look. I can tell they don't really care about being caught right now. Mary-Beth reaches forward and takes one of my hands in hers, a pleading look on her face. 

"Somethin' had to of happened, we all see how Arthur looks at ya." She nods at the others. 

"I'm surprised he didn't make a move already." Tilly says and then breaks out into giggles. 

My brows fly into my hairline as I look between those two. They're awful gossipers. Then again, this must be one of the juiciest things that has happened to them in a long time. 

I want to tell them, I really do, but I don't know if Arthur is ready for everyone to know yet. Though we may be together, it just happened and maybe he isn't ready for everyone to know yet. If he isn't I won't blame him for it. I don't know exactly what his past relationships were like, and so I don't know how he'd react if I told the girls. They would make jokes and tease us about it in good nature, sure, but it might make him uncomfortable. I'll wait to tell them until I've discussed it with him. 

"Arthur helped take care of me while I was sick, that's all." I tell them, trying my best to make is sound convincing. I'm not sure if they buy it by the skepticism I see in their eyes but they don't say anything further on the subject. 

We talk for a little longer after that, me telling them about Arthur catching Bishop for me (their shared looks don't go unnoticed) and them telling me about what's been happening in camp. Karen comes back sometime in the middle of the conversation and joins in. Sadie stops in to say a quick hello but doesn't stick around, saying that she still has some work to get done. I'm just happy that she even said hello.

* * *

 

Later on in the night almost everyone is gathered around the campfire, enjoying the bison stew that Pearson prepared as a part of a celebration for the three of us coming back. I'm sitting on the log, Javier on my left as he talks to me about some story from when he lived in Mexico. It's fascinating--I've always wanted to go to Mexico but never had the chance. I'm not sure if I'll ever have the chance now, let alone if I'll ever be able to go anywhere outside of this area. 

I'm almost positive it's Kentucky. Still not sure, though.

"Do you ever wish you could go back?"

Javier lets out a breath, staring at the fire wistfully. "All the time. But if I ever stepped foot back in my hometown I would be shot on sight."

I put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. He smiles at me, grateful for the thought that someone is willing to talk to him about this, willing to listen to him and know that he too misses where he comes from. 

Someone sits down on my right side, and I look to find it's Arthur. He settles down with a tired sigh, leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs. He took a bath before we left Valentine so he looks pretty good, his hair neatly combed back and some casual clothes on. 

Well, if we're being honest, he could make anything look good. 

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile but he doesn't say anything. His knee knocks against mine gently and that's the only greeting from him that I need. 

"How was your venture, Charles?" Hosea asks from across the fire. Charles is sitting off to the side on a chair, sipping from a beer. 

"It was good. It's nice to keep in touch with my people." 

"Your people?"

Now there's a voice that I haven't missed. 

Micah is standing over by Reverend Swanson, a flask held up to his lips. He takes a deep drink, smacking his lips when he's done and screwing the lid on. He tucks the bottle back in his coat, narrowing his eyes at Charles. 

"We are your people." 

Charles frowns at Micah, simply rolling his eyes. He must not be in the mood to feed into the greasy man's antics tonight. 

"Just shut it, Micah." John groans, leaning back in his seat. Abigail watches him, Jack settled onto her lap as he gets the sleepy look in his eye. 

Micah shakes his head, glaring at Charles. John suddenly swears under his breath, dropping his beer onto the ground below him. He clutches his hand to his chest, staring at the area where he sliced his palm. 

"Marston, you idiot." Abigail shakes her head. She turns to me, getting my attention. "Lily, could ya watch Jack?" 

I nod, reaching out and taking the boy from her so that she can take John over to clean his hand up like a mother would to her child. Jack curls up in my lap, resting his head on my chest and closing his eyes as I wrap my arms tightly around him. 

"You're real good with him." Arthur murmurs, watching the two of us. I smile down at Jack.

"He's a special boy." I look curiously at the other man, a sudden question coming to the front of my mind. Should I ask him now, in front of everyone, or wait until we're in private? Considering it's a touchy question I decide to wait until later. Who knows how the others will react if I say it in front of them?

The others carry on with their separate conversations, John's incident defusing the situation that was beginning to brew with Micah. He remains off to the side, drinking quietly while he stares at us. He catches me watching him at one point and glares at me. I merely roll my eyes and look over to where Arthur and Hosea are conversing. 

"Lily?" I look over my shoulder to where Abigail is sitting at the one wagon with John as she wraps a bandage around the palm of his hand. "Can ya put Jack to bed? It's gettin' late."

I nod and stand up, waiting for Arthur to sit up and move his legs so I can slip by. I shift Jack around so that he has his arms wrapped around my neck and his head resting on my shoulder as I carry him back to his bed. Once we get there I get down on my knees, pulling his blankets back so that I can lay him down. Once he's settled I cover him back up, smoothing his hair away from his face. Jack is an adorable little boy. Abigail got lucky with him, and John doesn't quite understand how blessed he is. 

"You know," a voice startles me and I look behind me in the dark, "you and a child make a good pair." Micah steps forward into the tent and I scramble to stand back up, remaining in front of Jack's sleeping form so he can't get any closer. 

"Back off, Micah." I say lowly, not liking the feeling that his comment gives me. 

He holds up his hands, appearing innocent. "I don't wanna fight with ya, in fact, I think I need to clear somethin' up."

Now I'm confused. "What?"

He lowers his hands, smoothing his moustache. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over, huh?" He steps closer, and I take a tiny step backwards. If I go back anymore I'll be step on Jack so I can't move anymore. "We can be friends," he leans in close to me and begins to twirl a strand of my hair between his fingers, that uneasy feeling growing bigger with each passing moment, "maybe even somethin' more." His eyes flit down to Jack. "I've always wanted kids."

When his free hand creeps forward towards my waist I panic and shove the palm of my hand up into his nose. It makes contact with a sickening noise and he stumbles back as I see something dark begin to flow down his face. 

"You bitch!" He cries, and all the voices at the campfire cease at the commotion. Micah puts his hands up to his nose before pulling them away to inspect the blood on them. 

"Don't you  _dare_ touch me," I hiss, keeping my voice low for Jack's sake. It's a wonder he hasn't woken up yet. I push Micah out of the tent, following after him and closing the flap behind me so that our chances of waking him up are lowered. 

Micah straightens up, storming towards me with a murderous look upon his face. I feel a flash of fear run through me, and I move to the side quickly to avoid him. Someone is suddenly grabbing me around the waist and I freak out, kicking and flailing in their grasp as they move me behind them until Arthur's voice growls in my ear. 

"Stop!" He lets me go and I cease my movement, looking up at him my heart beats fast in my ears. He steps in front of me, similarly to how he did at the saloon, putting himself between Micah and I. Micah tries to move past him but Arthur grabs him with a handful of his jacket and tosses him back so that he falls on his ass on the ground. 

"Get out of my  _way_ , Morgan!" Micah shouts, snarling up at him. 

I step back, Arthur reaching behind me and placing his hand on my stomach to keep me away from Micah. When he gets back up to his feet he grabs Arthur, pushing him away from me. Or at least trying to, anyway. Arthur doesn't really budge from where he's standing and Micah lets out a shout of frustration. He reaches back and let's loose, his fist flying into Arthur's midsection. Arthur doubles over, winded from the sudden attack. 

"Arthur!" I cry, running around him and putting  _him_ behind me this time. Arthur places one hand on my arm to stop me but I shrug him off, not about to let him take another hit from Micah for me. "Back the  _fuck_ up, Micah!"

"That was meant for  _you!"_

"What the hell is goin' on?" Dutch steps in, just like he did all those days ago when I was trying to set my tent up. He grabs Micah's arm and pulls him a few feet away from Arthur and I so that he can't attack us again. 

I turn to Arthur, bending down to see if he's okay. He nods his head, sucking in a deep breath and standing back up with one hand resting on the area where Micah sucker-punched him. I place my hand lightly on his arm, just to let him know that I'm there if he needs me. He doesn't move away. 

"The  _bitch_ attacked me!" Micah cries, showing his bloody nose to Arthur like the tattle-tale he is. He spits off to the side, wiping his hand across his face as he glares at me. 

"Lily?"

"Only because he was trying to touch me!" I defend myself, my fingers tightening around Arthur's arm as I remember the way Micah's touch made me feel. "I never said he could touch me. I'd rather swim with alligators."

"That can be arranged," Micah growls, and Dutch turns, frowning at him. 

"Micah," Dutch's voice sounds very disappointed as he addresses him, "we don't do that. Not with other women, and  _certainly_ not with women who are a part of our family."

"She broke my nose--"

"--and you fucking deserved it!" I shout, anger running through my veins. I can't stop myself when I step forward and I know that it's a bad idea as soon as I do it because I get in Micah's range and the next thing I feel is a sharp smack against the side of my face, bringing a very similar feeling to that time the O'Driscoll man hit me. My head whips to the side and I lurch to the side slightly from the power that was behind the hit. 

There's a commotion that I hear in the background but I can't hear past the ringing in my ears. I blink my eyes a few times, clearing them to see what's happening in front of me.

Micah is on the ground and Arthur is on top of him, tightly gripping a handful of his shirt as he punches him in the face. Dutch and Javier are trying to stop him, grabbing his arms and restraining him so they can pull him off. 

"Arthur?" I ask, swallowing past the thickness of my tongue. My cheek is stinging and the area is hot to the touch. Damn. He got me pretty good. Why do they always go for the cheek?

"Son, stop!" Dutch manages to yank Arthur off of Micah and he collapses to the side, staring hatefully at the grease ball.

He shakes off Dutch and Javier and climbs to his feet, brushing off the dirt. When he steps close again Dutch and Javier tense, afraid that he's going to attack him again but he doesn't. He stares down at the blonde man and shakes his head, a disgusted look on his face. 

"Hittin' women? Dutch, this ain't who we are. He ain't worth my time." He points a finger at Micah with a stern expression. "You touch her again and I'll kill you myself." He turns and walks over to me, wrapping one arm around my waist and leading me away from the area. I see the others who were left over by the campfire are watching us with somber expressions, unsure of what to do. Dutch looks at us sadly, and I feel bad for the man. He wants his family to be together and it seems that ever since I got here I've done nothing but help it fall apart. 

Arthur leads us into his tent, setting me down on the edge of his bed before going over and shutting the flap to his tent. He lights another candle alongside the first one so that there's a little more light inside here, but I don't really notice his movements. I'm too lost in my thoughts, still surprised by the fact that I let Micah do that to me. Sure, I broke his nose, but it's my own stupid fault for getting close enough to him that he could even hit me back. I'm smarter than that. I _know_ better than that. It's my own stupid fault that Arthur got involved and received a punch to his diaphragm for his efforts. 

The soft press of a thumb under my chin breaks me out of my reverie and I look up to find Arthur watching me with a concerned look. He kneels down in front of me and I follow his movements, his hand drifting up to lightly brush against the part of my face that Micah hit. He let's out a deep puff of air through his nose, a crease forming between his brows. 

"I just..." he closes his eyes and sighs, "'m sorry I didn't stop him. I didn't see him follow you."

I push down the depressive feeling that was beginning to crawl upwards and throughout my body. "You didn't do anything wrong, Arthur. I should be the one apologizing for putting you in a situation where you got hurt."

He frowns. "I'm fine. I've taken worse than a punch from him before and was okay then too."

I pull his hand off my face and clasp it between the two of mine. "That's not the point, Arthur. I don't like it when you get in those situations,  _period._ "

He softens, moving from the ground to sit beside me on the cot. "Darlin', that's just how this life is. It's not easy to be an outlaw."

"Let me ask you something," I brace myself for this conversation--it could either go very well or very bad, "do you enjoy this? Being an outlaw? I just--you're a good man, Arthur Morgan. And contrary to what most people may say in this camp, you're  _not_ stupid. You're smarter than most people I know. A person doesn't have to know what's in a bunch of books to be considered smart. You can handle social situations with more charisma than the president and let me tell you,  _that_ is a rare quality to find." 

He gives me an amused look. "I'm flattered, but I ain't no president."

I hold up a hand. "Just let me finish." He nods for me to continue. "You have all these amazing qualities, Arthur. Why are you still here?" The amusement slowly fades from his face. "Why haven't you gone on to settle down? Surely by now you've got enough money that you could happily live the rest of your days without having to worry about robbing someone or something, you could get an honest job."

_"Honest job?"_ Arthur asks quietly. He doesn't look so happy anymore.   


"Tell me this: where do you see yourself in ten years?"

Arthur is silent. He looks away from me, and I can see that his jaw is clenched. He stands up from the bed, pacing over to the entrance of the tent and resting his hands on his hips as he stares into a corner. His stance is tense and I can tell that my question must have struck a nerve with him. 

I stand up as well, walking up behind him slowly. Once I'm close enough I lightly place my hand between his shoulder blades, feeling the stiffness there.

"Are you suggestin' that I abandon the gang?" His question is quiet, a hint of vehemence in his tone. 

"No," I shake my head, just wishing that he would turn around so I could see what it is he's thinking, "I would never say that. This is your family--I know that. But do you  _always_ want to be here? You don't ever want to settle in one spot and live out the rest of your life?"

There's a good amount of silence that stretches out between the two of us. After nearly a minute I feel like he's not going to respond when I feel him exhale beneath my hand. 

"I've always wanted a ranch of my own," he admits softly, turning around to face me. Even though I know that Arthur isn't necessarily a young man, it appears almost as though he's aged in the past few minutes. There are worry lines on his forehead and his eyes are sad, as though he's reliving some horrible memories that he's experienced in the past. "Raise a bunch of animals, train some, sell some. Be able to do what I want when I want. Also wanted a family of my own. Was jealous of Marston there for a while--knew he was an idiot for abandoning Abigail and Jack."

I forgot about that. In the beginning of the game it was revealed that John had left the gang for a year. Arthur was really upset with him, and I guess John didn't believe that Jack was his son. Is that why he's so hostile to him sometimes? Apparently some of the other gang members haven't forgiven John for leaving. Is Arthur afraid of being treated the same way? If someone wants to get out of this life then they shouldn't be treated like this. It's not right--if someone wants to start a new life and leave behind the past then they should be allowed to. John is a different case, I know that. He left behind his son and the mother of his child. That wasn't starting over; that was abandonment. 

"Who said you can't have that still?" I say this carefully, not wanting to make Arthur think I'm talking of myself or something like that happening anytime soon--though I don't think I'm completely against the idea. 

He stares at me for a few seconds, and I can see the thought process going through his head right now. "There's somethin' I haven't told ya."

"Like what?"

He closes his eyes briefly, preparing himself for whatever it is he's going to tell me. 

"I had a son."

The words don't register to me at first. I heard them, sure, but they didn't quite form in my brain until a few seconds later. I blink, trying to collect myself. "Huh?"

"His name was Isaac. His mother was Eliza, a waitress from some saloon I went to many years ago. Hell, she was barely a woman. Only nineteen years old." He runs a hand across his face, scrunching it in disgust--I'm guessing disgust with himself. 

I'm... _shocked_. I had no clue that Arthur had a child already. But why is he talking about them in past-tense?

"Oh, alright." I say slowly, trying to pace myself and monitor my words so that I don't immediately say the first thing that pops into my head which as of right now is just  _what the fuck_. "W-what do you mean you 'had' a son?"

Arthur steps away from me and walks back over to the bed, sitting himself down and slouching against the side of the wagon. He stares down at his hands as he rests them on his lap. "They died. 'Used to go visit 'em every once in a while, see if they needed anythin'." 

I cough lightly. "Eliza and Isaac didn't live with you?"

He shakes his head. "Eliza might have had some feelin's for me, but I didn't feel the same way to her. She knew what kinda life I led, she didn't want the boy in it. I couldn't blame her." 

I nod, understanding now why he only saw her a couple times. He chose the gang over his own child. I guess that answers part of my question from earlier. 

"The last time I went back there was two crosses in front o' the house. Knew then and there that her and the boy was dead. Robbed--all for ten dollars." 

I cover my mouth as I inhale sharply. That's  _awful_. This must be why he was so upset with John for leaving Abigail and Jack. John has a chance for a family and willingly left it--Arthur had his chance and abused it and it cost him two lives, one of which was his own child. "Arthur, I'm so sorry." 

Though he does seem upset by it, he doesn't appear to be  _too_ affected. 

"It is what it is." He finally meets my eyes, and for the first time in a while I see the Arthur that I first met--trying to be nonchalant but full of emotion that can be found if you look in the right places. "I may  _want_ things, Lily, but I don't deserve 'em. If that ain't a big enough sign then I don't know what else would be."

I sit down beside him, taking one of his hands in my own. I run my thumb across the back of his knuckles, feeling the bones and tough skin that has seen and done so much. The torn skin and scars that are littered here and there. "Some things change, and some things don't. You never know what may happen. I'll tell you this much, though," I lean forward and press a soft kiss to the side of his cheek, "if you leave, I'll go with you. But if you stay? I'll stay with you. I'll be here until you change your mind. I know these people are your family, Arthur. I don't want you to abandon them."

He pulls his hand out of my own and instead wraps it around my waist, tugging me close to his side. I snuggle in close, relishing in the feel of him beside me. 

"I'll always want ya by my side."

"Then I guess we'll be just fine."


	21. Swimming & Dominoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know that it's an early update but I'm planning on having another chapter out on Sunday! I know where I want this story to go (at least for a while) and now I just need to find the time to write it out. 
> 
> I've decided that there will be explicit smut, just because so many of you asked for it and you've been so supportive so I'll do it for you. I'll put a line in the chapter (it'll be the only line) and that will show where it will be. There's nothing in this chapter like that so you're safe, but there is ~some~ saucy things that happen here. This is more of the implied kind of thing that I was talking about that happens in this chapter.
> 
> Question: Would you like a chapter from Arthur's point of view or do you just want me to stick with Lily's? When I first started writing this I was debating between first person or third, and I realized that so many of them were third person that I would do first. And since this isn't a reader fic I thought that first person would help. Have a great weekend!

"That's it--just keep moving your arms like that." I nod my head, encouraging Jack as he tries to swim alongside me. 

A few days after the whole thing with Micah happened I thought it would be a good idea if I steered clear of him. While he was roaming around camp, trying to find sympathy for his broken nose, I stayed on the outskirts and did some odd things here and there. Today the weather finally seemed warm enough for Jack's first swimming lesson so I made sure that John was free for an hour or so and together the three of us rode off to a different part of the lake away from camp. I know that John is embarrassed--even if he won't admit it--about learning to swim as a grown man, much less from  _me_ , so I'm indulging him. For now. One of these days I won't have the patience to load up my horse and ride fifteen minutes away from camp and then have to unpack everything for a short time. 

We've been here for around an hour. The sun is still high in the sky so it's not too late in the day, but I know that it won't be good to have Jack here for too long. The light reflects off the water and since sun protection isn't a thing I won't keep him here for longer than he needs to be. He isn't too shabby--we're only in water that's up to my mid thigh, which is pretty deep for him. That's as far as I'll take him, since that's what I promised Abigail. He's wearing some lighter clothing that I deemed suitable for this. I didn't want him to wear anything too heavy that would make this even harder for him. 

John was tense when Jack and I first started moving into the water. I could tell that he was getting flashbacks of the last time he saw his son in the water, and I felt bad. But then I remembered that  _that_ is the exact reason for this whole thing, so I steel myself and keep on with what I'm doing. John sits on the ground along the shoreline, hands resting on the tops of his knees as he watches us beneath his hat, eyes squinted against the harsh glare of the sun. 

I reach down, lightly holding onto his arm in case he should slip under the water. Jack is actually doing really well for this being his first lesson and only being six years old. I didn't really dress in anything different from normal, since I won't be getting under the water completely. If John were getting in then I would have, but I don't think he will this first time so I let it go. I'll make him get in one of these days. I swear it. 

Jack stops paddling around, the splashing of water ceasing and he scrambles to stand up straight in the water. There's a big grin on his face and his eyes are lit up as he giggles, enjoying his time in the water on such a nice day. 

"Did I do good?" There's a hopefulness in his voice that just makes my heart melt. 

I lightly flick some water in his direction. "You did better than I could have ever imagined. Keep it up and you'll be better than me."

"You really mean it?" He gasps, looking at his dad excitedly. The corner of John's mouth quirks up in amusement. 

I smile. "I do. Now how about we stop it here for today? I bet your mom has some lunch ready for you." 

Jack runs out of the water, splashing everything around him and moving quickly to his dad. John holds out a hand to stop him before he can throw himself on him, not wanting to get drenched in water. "Watch it there, Jack."

Jack seems to deflate a little bit, stopping himself and standing in one spot, the water dripping off and wetting the ground beneath him. I frown as I see how easy it is for John to ruin Jack's fun. That little boy should never be sad. 

"Hey Jack," I call as I walk over to Chewie, "do you want to ride with me? I bet Chewie would love to have someone scratch between his ears while we ride back." 

Some of the brightness returns and he looks up at his Dad expectantly. John sighs, waving his hand and dismissing him. Jack runs over to me and I laugh as he jumps in my arms so that I can lift him up onto the saddle. He grasps the horn tightly while I mount up behind him, making sure he won't fall off as I grab a hold of the reigns and begin to follow John away from the lake. 

"Hey John," I call as I ride Chewie alongside his horse, "are you going to get in the water next time?"

John scoffs, shaking his head. "Doubt it."

I purse my lips. "I wouldn't."

John looks over at me for a moment, watching as Jack leans forward to play with Chewie's mane. "I, uh, 'm sorry about Micah. What he did."

I frown, confused. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything."

John looks forward again, his jaw set. "Arthur mentioned to me a while back to keep an eye out for you, that you might need help with him. I wasn't watchin'."

Wow. Arthur asked John to watch out for me?  _When_ did he do this? I didn't realize that Arthur and John were so close to begin with that he would ask  _him_ to do something for him, let alone protect me. Does this mean that John knew how Arthur felt about me? Does John know about Arthur and I? There are too many questions running through my mind right now. 

"John...I don't know what to say."

John shrugs. "You saved my son. It's the least I could do." He shakes his head and lets out a sardonic laugh. "But I guess I couldn't even do that."

"You came with Jack and I today for this, even though I can only imagine how difficult for you it must be. Consider us even, Marston."

John gives me the smallest of smiles before riding on ahead once more as the path thins out. Though it wasn't anything to really be proud of, I'll take it. John and I didn't start off perfect and I'm hard on him most times, so I'll take this tiny victory. And though he may not believe it, he will get in the water. I'll make sure he does, one way or another. 

* * *

A few hours later in the day finds me playing dominoes with Tilly and Karen back at camp. It was hard to get the hang of at first, but I think once I won the third round that I finally began to understand it. Tilly and Karen make light conversation, but I can tell that they're bursting to say something with the way they continue to skirt around getting too involved in one subject. After Tilly brushes off my question about how Kieran has been I finally deem it enough and stop, leaning back in my chair and folding my arms across my chest as I stare them down. 

"Alright, spill."

Karen and Tilly share a look, trying to act inconspicuous, but I see right through it. They can see I'm not buying it and abandon the dominoes scattered across the table. 

"I just have ta say," Karen leans one elbow on the table as she waves her hand, "the way that Arthur acted the other night was really somethin'."

"Oh, yeah," Tilly agrees, "I've never seen him be like that with Micah before. Sure, we all knew that he got on everyone's nerves but Arthur's never attacked him like that."

_Oh_. So that's what this is about. 

"Micah had it coming."

"That's true," Karen nods her head, "I'm sure that if Arthur hadn't've jumped on Micah then any of the other men would've--even Bill. But he moved so  _quick_ \--it was like lightnin' strikin' a tree. Fast and violent." Karen shudders, a grin playing across her lips. "Watchin' him defend a woman like that sure stirs somethin' inside me."

"Karen," Tilly hisses, frowning at the other woman. I should probably feel a little jealous at Karen's words, but I know two things: she and Sean are in love even if they won't admit it, and she's just saying this to rile me up so I'll say something. I know better than to give into some simple goading.

"You're not wrong," I agree, smiling devilishly at her. "It was very kind of him to jump in like that, but I wish he hadn't."

Their faces fall. "What?" Tilly asks. 

"I don't like other people getting hurt for my benefit. Arthur was through some traumatic events a few weeks ago, and though it may not be affecting him that much  _physically_ , mental scars are a whole different thing. You ladies know better than I do that that man has a conscience. I'm sure getting hit so soon after his run in with Colm brought up some not-so-pleasant memories." I frown as I rearrange my stack of dominoes. "He probably has a nice sized bruise from that hit. Arthur isn't the only one with a conscience. I would've rather taken the hit myself."

Karen idly runs her fingernails across the wooden table top. "I s'pose you're right."

"Never thought of it that way." Tilly slowly adds a domino to the pile in the middle. 

I feel bad for ruining the good mood that had been surrounding us, so as I lay down my next domino, completing a row and winning the game, I give them a coy smile. "But I suppose he believes in 'kiss and make it better' because he was on his feet real soon after that." I send them a wink. "But you didn't hear that from me."

I stand up from my chair as their mouths drop open in surprise. I can almost see the excitement once more filling them up as they scramble for something to say to that. I smile and let out a laugh as I turn away and walk back to my tent, getting ready for the dinner that Pearson was preparing earlier. He told us that by the time we were done with our game it would be nearly over. 

A few moments later and Tilly, Karen, and now Mary-Beth as well are invading my tent. The latter is grinning widely, her hands clasped together while the other two don't quite know what to say. 

"You--!" Karen points a finger at me. 

I hold up my hands. "Me?"

"You and Arthur?" Tilly asks.

I try to be nonchalant but the happiness that they're protruding is contagious and soon enough I find myself smiling and laughing as they screech and jump around. I hold out my hands, shushing them with a giggle and trying to get them to calm down before they draw too much attention. 

"It's not quite public knowledge," I tell them quietly. 

"Everyone knew it would happen," Tilly rolls her eyes as Mary-Beth grabs a hold of her arm. 

"Sean and I made a bet on how long it would take before you two did it."

"Karen!"

"What?" She grins crookedly at me. 

My face heats up. "We haven't...done that." I'm no blushing virgin, so why is this topic making me feel like one?

"But you have kissed?" I can see Mary-Beth dig her fingernails tightly into Tilly's skin until I'm sure she has to draw blood. 

I purse my lips and try to pretend that I'm annoyed by their questioning but in reality I'm filled with nothing but mirth. This is a nice change of pace from the way that everyone in camp has been acting around each other since the attack with Micah happened. There's been a lot of tiptoeing--not wanting to start another fight over something or fearing that Micah would lash out. Thankfully he left two days ago to do some business with Bill and Hosea at the Braithewaites, but who knows when he'll show back up. 

"I don't kiss and tell." 

They squeal again, and Mary-Beth releases Tilly to rush forward and hug me. I'm not expecting it but it's not unwelcome. She holds me tightly against her, squeezing to the point where I can barely breathe. "I'm so, so happy for you."

"It's about damn time he came to his senses." Karen huffs, nudging Tilly with her elbow. 

It's been nearly a week since Arthur and I came back and we've barely had any time to ourselves, not knowing when the right time to let everyone know about us was. Now I'm just saying fuck it and might as well tell them. It's a relief to get it off my chest, to say the least. 

"Arthur's real lucky to have you, Lily. He better watch himself." Tilly smiles at me. "If he steps out of line you just let us know and we'll take care of him."

"Oh, trust me," I say as Mary-Beth releases me and I can step back for a breath, "I can take care of him too. He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into." That gets a laugh out of them. 

"But the truth is," I sigh as I sit down on the ground, the others following suit as they curl their legs underneath them so that they don't get caught in their dresses,  _"I'm_ the lucky one. Back home there aren't many good men like him, and if there are any then they're taken. I just got lucky." 

_Lucky enough to fall into a video game and fall in love with the main character_. 

"Sweetie," Karen sounds serious all of a sudden, "none of us are  _good_ people. We've all done things, Arthur at the top of the list. You do know that, right?"

I...do know that. I know that this is a group of outlaws, I'm not blind. These people have stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to get to where they are today. I know that Arthur has done some horrible things, but inside of me I know that he only did them because he had to, not because he wanted to. He's not like Micah--he actually cares for people and thinks about the affects that the choices he makes will have. I may not be used to this type of thing, and I'm eternally grateful that during my time here I haven't been exposed to very much. Sure, there was the O'Driscoll man that I killed; I'm still plagued by that. I'll never forget it. Sometimes when I dream at night he's all I see, and his blood is all I can feel on my fingers. I don't let the others know that, though. When I would sleep with Arthur and wake up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, I would just calm myself down and go back to sleep. Arthur has enough problems of his own that he doesn't need to deal with my own. The only people who know that I killed anyone to begin with are Sadie, Lenny, and Charles. They haven't said a word, and I don't think they ever will. 

"I'm aware, it's just hard to explain. I love you guys--you've taken me in and helped me more than I could've ever imagined and I trust you all--well almost all of you--with my life. Arthur has saved me many times, helped me get back on my feet, been there for me when I had nowhere else to go. I...I love him."

Their mouths fall open once more. Mary-Beth gasps but she's smiling. "You love him?"

I think it over for a few seconds, making sure that I used the correct words to describe how I feel. But it's true. I  _do_ love Arthur. Was it a good idea to tell them this before I told him? Probably not, but it still felt good to say. 

"I do. But can you guys do me a favor? Just, don't go shouting it around camp? Arthur and I...it's new. This thing between us is new. I don't want anything to jinx it, so just keep it quiet?"

The three of them nod, and at this moment I notice that we must look like some school girls who are sharing some good gossip about the boys on the playground. It's downright childish and makes me feel younger than I have in a while. 

"Lily, dinner's read--" Arthur sticks his head into my tent and freezes when he sees the four of us sitting on the ground. The side of his mouth tugs upwards into a smile as he nods at us. "Ladies. Pearson has the food ready, best get it while it's hot."

Karen gives a sly look to the others. "Oh, definitely. We love hot things. I wonder if that's the only hot thing here. Do you think, Lily?"

My eyes widen as she cocks a brow at me, a smirk on her face.  _What is she playing at here?_

"I don't know what you're talking about, Karen."

The three women stand to their feet, brushing off the dirt and anything else that may have gathered on them during their short time on the ground. 

"How about you, Arthur?" She walks over and stands beside him, peering back at me as she appraises my form. "Don't know 'bout you, but Lily looks pretty hot." 

Arthur's face heats up as he looks to me for an explanation for this whole conversation. I don't know what to say. 

"I-I reckon you gotta point, Karen." Arthur says gruffly, tugging his hat off the top of his head and running his fingers over the rim unconsciously. 

Karen throws one more look in my direction before tugging Tilly and Mary-Beth out of my tent, leaving me flustered and Arthur disgruntled as we stand there. Once they're gone and the flap to my tent is shut once more to give us some privacy he sets his hat off to the side, planting his hands on his hips as he stares at me. 

"Do I even wanna know what all that was about?"

I shake my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Probably not. I would just ignore what she said." Arthur hums in response, his spurs jingling on his boots as he moves over to sit in the chair off to the side. The wood creaks as it holds his full weight, momentarily making me afraid that it's going to break beneath him. That's the only chair that I can claim as mine. 

"How did it go?" 

"What?" Arthur asks as he leans back, resting his hands in his lap while stretching his legs out in front of him. 

I roll my eyes, lightly kicking the bottom of his boot with my own as I prepare to get some clothes to change into. "You know exactly 'what', Arthur."

He chuckles lowly while crossing his arms behind his head. "I guess it was fine. The place that Dutch had John and I scope out for more of them 'fancy' horses was a bust. Nothin' there."

I pause as I pull a fresh shirt out. "I think that Dutch should cool it with having you guys be double agents here."

"Double-what?"

"Double agents. Playing both sides. Doing that just raises the risk of getting caught by one of them, and I have a horrible feeling that shit is going to go down soon." I don't know why, though. "Someone's going to get hurt."

"Aw," Arthur's voice is low as he watches me move around my tiny area, "is doc worried about 'er patients?"

I stick my tongue out at him as I kick my boots off. "I'm worried about you getting  _hurt_.  _Again_."

"Tell you what," Arthur sits up, leaning forward on his knees, "why don't you come with me? Tomorrow Dutch wants me ta meet up with Bill, Micah, and Sean in town to do somethin' for the Gray's. It's supposed to be real easy, just meetin' up to discuss a possible job. We'll be goin' to the saloon but if it'll make ya feel better then you can tag along."

I know Arthur's just teasing me about going with them to a meeting with the Gray's, and the way he talks about it makes it sound really easy, but the pit that's growing inside my stomach isn't fading away. It's like an omen--trying to tell me that something is going to happen. I need to be there. 

"I'll go," I tell him, throwing my trunk closed and holding my shirt and pants tightly in my arms, "just to keep an eye out for you guys."

He gives me that easy-going smile that makes my chest warm up every time I see it. "Even Micah?" 

I scowl. "He can eat dirt for all I care."

Arthur chuckles again and I shake my head at his amusement. He slows down and coughs, reaching forward to grab my free hand. I look down as he rubs his thumb across my skin, the contrast between his dark skin and my lighter tone standing out. 

"I won't let him touch ya, don't you worry about that." 

I lean down and kiss the top of his head, feeling him lean forward to rest his face against my chest. "I know." I think back to the conversation I had with John at the lake today. "I didn't know you asked Marston to keep an eye out for me?"

Arthur is silent for a moment, sighing into my shirt. "Just don't want anything happenin' to ya."

I smile even though he can't see it. The fact that he does things like this that I don't even _know_ about shows how much he truly cares about me. "I don't want anything to happen to you either. Now, get out so I can change."

He pulls back with a pout on his lips that makes me just want to kiss him silly. "I can't stay?"

I raise a brow, leaning on one hip. "You want to watch or something?"

I said it as a joke, but as I see his face go red and the look in his eyes change I know that he didn't take it as one. He clears his throat once more and I can see his throat move as he swallows. "Naw, 'course not."

He's lying. I can tell.  _Does he really want to...watch?_ I lick my lips, looking to the ground for a moment in thought while Arthur leans over to pick up his hat and gets ready to stand. As he pushes up I move forward, resting my hand on his chest and stopping him. 

"You..." I trail off as I try to get my voice back, "you can stay. If you want." I smile down at him. "Besides, you've already seen me without pants."

That breaks some of the tension as he grins up at me. "Alright," he agrees quietly, settling back into his seat.

I feel the blush spread from my face to my ears and down my neck as I pull my shirt out of where it was tucked into my pants, unbuttoning it from the top down. Halfway through I glance up to find Arthur staring at me intently, his lips parted slightly as he keeps his eyes glued to my fingers. The bra that I'm wearing isn't that different from what I would normally wear back home, if not less supported. There's no wiring, and since I refuse to wear a corset because of how bad they are, Sadie helped me find something similar to what she wears most of the time. She's fine with corsets, but she also understands why I choose not to wear them. It's white and lacy, not doing much to leave anything to the imagination. 

When the shirt is undone I let it fall off my shoulders and to the ground below me. I pop the button on my pants, grabbing the sides of them and bending down slowly as they slide down my legs. My heart is beating fast inside my chest and I can feel my skin heating up with each passing moment. Arthur has fallen still where he sits, his eyes hooded as he watches me. As I stand up straight and step out of the pants I hear him inhale sharply, his fingers twitching on his thighs, almost as though he's itching to reach out and touch me. 

The cool air of the night as it gets later and later brings goosebumps to my skin as I remain where I am. As warm as Arthur's looks may bring me, and as much as I want him to  _continue_ to look at me like he's starving and I'm the last bite of food on this planet, I need to get dressed so we can get some real dinner. I snap out of my trance and slide into the fresh pants, pulling them up to my waist and buttoning them. When I get my arms though the shirt and begin to do it up Arthur reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me. He's watching me, that hunger still in his eyes as he breathes softly through his mouth. 

"Let me help ya," he murmurs, tugging me closer until I'm standing between his legs. He grabs the bottom sides of the shirt and begins to slowly button it up, leaning forward slowly to press a kiss to the bare skin of my belly. I shudder beneath his touch as his lips ghost across me, sensual and ticklish at the same time. I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as my breath gets caught in my throat. 

He continues the same process, pressing random kisses to my body along the way as he buttons the shirt up except for the last two, leaving them open like I normally would. I don't know if he knew that's how I wear it or he just wanted to see some skin. He stands up as he finishes the last button, pressing a kiss to my sternum before moving forward quickly and kissing me on the lips. His hands slide around my waist to my back and he presses against me until I'm leaning back and his arms are the only thing keeping me from falling on the ground. I hold on tightly to his arms, giving into the kiss nearly as much as he is. As our mouths move against one another I can feel the stubble on his face brush against my nose, tickling me until I have to pull back so that I don't suddenly sneeze. 

He nuzzles his face against mine breathlessly, moving down to my neck so he can bury his face into my shoulder. As I straighten up in his hold I feel his groin pressed tightly against me, a certain feature specifically brought to my attention as it pushes into my stomach. Feeling high from the kiss I move my hand down his chest, feeling it expand and deflate as he tries to get his breathing back under control. His stomach twitches as I brush against the muscles there but I don't stop, moving further down and drifting past his belt. As my fingers skin over the button to his pants and I finally reach what I was looking for I hear his breath catch in his throat. He doesn't say anything, merely leans his hips further into my hand so that I can feel him entirely. 

If what I'm detecting is correct, then this is a big man--in more ways than one.

"You..." he whispers into my ear, his voice strained as he grazes his lips back up to press lightly to my own, "I can guess now why Karen was callin' ya hot." One of his hands reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair, taking advantage of one of the times I decide to wear it down, and tugs so that my neck is exposed. I close my eyes, panting as he skims his other hand down my hip with a touch that sets me on fire. "She ain't wrong."

"Arthur," I say quietly, reveling in his arms. He kisses me once more, the two of us burning in this fiery moment together with a passion that long since has been building. 

"Dinner!" Pearson calls loudly from a little ways outside of our tent. 

I pull back from Arthur and he groans, once more burying his face in my neck. I take in a deep breath, stepping back slightly from Arthur's hold and straightening my clothes and hair while he adjusts his pants. We truly got lost in that moment back there. If Pearson hadn't interrupted us...

Arthur bends down and picks up his hat, throwing it on with a frown. He walks to the entrance of the tent, about to push through when he stops. He turns, stomping back over to me and pulling me into his arms to give me one more quick yet dizzying kiss. When he pulls back he strokes his thumb across my bottom lip, pulling on it gently. 

"This ain't finished." His voice is low and husky, giving it a sexy tone. 

"I'd be really disappointed if it was." I say, smiling up at him. He gives me one of his own in return and then steps out of the tent, giving me one last burning look over his shoulder be leaving. 

Once he's gone I let out a deep breath. Holy shit. Did that just happen? Did Arthur and I almost have sex right here while everyone is still at camp? I think back to what we just said to each other a minute ago. Clearly Arthur didn't want to stop and I didn't want to either. What does this mean now that we were interrupted? Will we pick back up or will it be awkward? 

I'm not sure, but I do know that now I'm too hot for this shirt.


	22. The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to hell. This chapter is so dirty omg. Sorry for not posting this yesterday--there was so much that I had to do and I wanted this chapter to not feel rushed so I decided to take one more day to work on it. 
> 
> WARNING: Explicit content. The page breaks signify the beginning and the end of the explicit area instead of a time jump, so if you're not comfortable with that sort of thing then just skip past the area. 
> 
> I don't really know what to put as the question for this chapter. My brain is fried from writing all of this. I'll try to have the next chapter posted on Wednesday! Let me know what you think and enjoy!

The spirits are surprisingly high among everyone as we gather around the fire to eat our dinner. Micah, Bill, and Hosea arrived back at camp when Arthur and I were leaving my tent just in time to join us. Micah grabbed his bowl of stew and sulked back to his tent without a single word. Bill hung around, conversing with Uncle about the things that they did. Arthur went and stood next to Dutch as Hosea told them of the progress they've made with Catherine Braithwaite. I sat with the other ladies, save for Miss Grimshaw and Molly. Susan was talking with Pearson over by his wagon while Molly was by herself in her and Dutch's tent. I've come to find that she doesn't particularly enjoy anyone's company other than the man himself. Karen and Sean slipped away once they were done eating to go spend some alone time together before he has to leave for Rhodes tomorrow. Karen has the same thoughts that I do on the whole matter concerning the Gray's and Braithwaite's. We should just mind our own business, but Dutch insists that everything will be fine even though we're meddling. 

Arthur sat with Sadie and I at the poker table to eat his meal before going over to Hosea. I'm just sitting here, watching the others talk as Sadie sips on a beer while lounging in her seat. She takes a deep sip, placing the bottle back on the wooden table with a dull thud. She lets out a sigh, pulling her hat off and setting it on the table between us. 

"You know," she starts and I look over in interest, "my husband always wanted a big family. That's the kind of man he was. I didn't think it was right for me--small is all I've known. Bein' here, though? It's not so bad. Most of the time, anyway," she adds as her eyes glance over to the direction that Micah went. "Makes me think that maybe a big family woulda been fine."

"What was he like?" I ask, leaning forward and giving her my full attention. Sadie and I haven't really had a chance to  _talk_. Sure, we've been together and conversed but nothing like I've had with the other women. If she's willing to start something up then I'm going to latch onto the chance. "Your husband, I mean."

Her lips pull into a thin line, telling me that it's a touchy subject for her. If I'm doing my math right then her husband has only been gone for less than four months, if even that. I can't imagine the pain of having a loved one murdered in front of you. 

"He..." she pauses, gripping the neck of her bottle tightly in her hand until her fingers turn white, "he was a good man. Better than any of the ones here, that's for sure."

I snort derisively. "That's not very hard to be, though."

She cracks a small smile at that. She looks up, locking eyes with me. "I mean it. Dutch, Hosea, even Arthur. They's nothin' compared to my Jake."

I nod, looking down at the lines of the table. I know Arthur isn't the best man out there--he's killed people after all--so I won't argue with her on that. 

"My Jake didn't treat me like most men treat a woman. I wasn't some little lady who was gonna stay home and keep the house clean--we shared everything. He made us equals. I worked inside, he worked inside. He worked outside, and I worked outside. It was a team effort."

Sadie's very serious when talking and I can tell by the way that her voice catches on his name that she's still very upset about it. I don't blame her. 

"He sounds like he was perfect for you."

She looks off to the side. "He was. Then those damn O'Driscoll's came along and fucked it all up." When she looks at me again there's a fire in her eyes that I've only seen one other time--when she was fighting the O'Driscoll from the bar. "They'll all pay for what they did to him."

"And I'll help you any way that I can, Sadie. You just say the word and I'm there."

Sadie doesn't say anything, just merely nods her head. She doesn't have to say anything because I can see the gratitude in the way she looks at me. I take a drink of my water and the two of us go back to watching the others. It's relaxing, being able to just sit here under the stars and not have to worry about what's going to happen in the future. 

Abigail and John are seated on some crates by the fire, Jack sitting on his mother's lap as he flips through a book that I guess Arthur found for him. No wonder that boy loves his Uncle Arthur--he spoils him. It's cute, though, and makes my heart grow warm at the thought of it. 

Arthur is seated on the log, Javier on the other end. He looks back and catches my gaze, smirking as he gestures for me to come over. I stand up and walk to his side, sitting down between the two men. Arthur wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close. pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I give him a questioning look and he shrugs. I guess he's fine with everyone seeing? Not that I'm complaining. I wrap my own arm around him and lean into his side as I notice some shared looks pass around the people at the fire. 

"Well, would you look at the two love birds," Uncle calls from where he's sitting beneath his tent. 

"Good work, son." Dutch smiles at Arthur, winking in his direction as he drinks from his flask. More of the others mutter amongst themselves and I feel my face heat up as we become the center of attention.

"All right," Arthur shakes his head at everyone with a chuckle, "just go back to whatever you was doin' and leave the two of us alone."

"Javier," Dutch looks to the man on my right, "would you play us something?"

Javier looks up from under his hat and nods. "Sure, jefe." He stands to his feet and walks over to his tent to get his guitar. He returns back to his seat, situating himself and strumming a few notes to make sure it's in tune before he starts. 

Once he picks a song and begins to play it the others smile and laugh. Uncle starts singing along first, the others joining in gradually. People are in high spirits as they clutch their alcohol and sing to some old song that I've never heard before. Even Arthur joins in, and I can feel his chest rumble with his singing below me. 

As the night goes on almost everyone gets drunk, save for Abigail, Arthur, Dutch, Sadie and I. Abigail left halfway through to put Jack to bed but John stayed to drink some more with the guys. As Javier enters what feels like his tenth song of the night Arthur stands, tugging my hand and pulling me with him. Mary-Beth calls goodnight to me from where she's seated on Charles' lap, the others not really noticing our departure. 

Arthur leads me past his tent and towards mine, confusing me. "You're not going to your tent?"

He looks at me over his shoulder, his expression heated. "Don't think I forgot about earlier." His hand tightens around mine once more as he continues to pull me towards the outer edge of camp. "Your tent is farther away, not in the middle of everythin' like mine."

Throughout the night I had calmed down from what had transpired in the tent between Arthur and I earlier, but now that he's leading me back to the place where it all happened and reminding me of it that warm feeling is building up inside of me again, 

When we finally reach my tent he slips inside, tugging me along with him and letting the flap fall closed behind me. He releases me to fasten the cloth, just to make sure that nobody can get in without having to rip it in the process. 

How thorough. 

When he's done he straightens back up, turning to face me and staring so intently that it causes my heart begin to nearly beat out of my chest. He stalks towards me like a predator, large hands reaching forward to wind around my waist and tug me against him. I lean back to look up at him, my insides stirring as his eyes flicker between my eyes and back to my lips. 

"Lily," his voice is low and husky even though we've barely done anything yet, "if you...if you don't want this, ya need to say somethin' now. Because once we start I ain't gonna be able to stop."

I lean up, my lips just a breath away from his own. "Don't stop."

* * *

In the darkness of my tent I could just make out the sharp outlines of Arthur's face, the way his profile seems to be carved by the gods themselves. I don't have a lot of light in my tent, just a lantern sitting off to the side on a desk, but it's more than enough for me to see what I want to see. At one second I'm admiring my cowboy's good looks and the next his mouth is pressing to my own, my lips parting like a blooming flower so that he can slip his tongue inside. I'm not sure who instigated the kiss first--me or him--but either way we reached a resolution that was bound to happen no matter who acted first. 

He tastes more of liquor than anything else, and I'm slightly impressed at how well this man can hold his alcohol without getting full on drunk like most other people. His body weighs down on my own, forcing my back to curve as I bend backwards. One of his hands is steadfast on my back, stopping me from falling to the ground while his other one skims down past my side and moves around to grab my ass. I've never been so angry to be wearing pants before. 

My hands slip between us as I straighten back up and begin to undo his belt. Once the clasp is undone I pull it out of the loops, tossing it off to the side. I grab a handful of his shirt and pull it out of his pants, freeing it so that I can begin to unbutton it. He must get the same idea that I do because he does the same with my own clothing, pulling my shirt out and undoing the buttons that just two hours ago he had secured. I finish before him, my fingers smaller and steadier as I make quick work of the cloth. I push his hands off me so that I can slide his shirt off his shoulders, watching it fall to a heap on the floor. I pause, marveling at his musculature and how well he seemed to have healed up from being kidnapped. The gunshot wound on his shoulder is nearly completely healed and is now just another scar littered along his skin with the others. It doesn't take any of his good looks away from him--if anything, it makes him sexier.

Arthur steps forward and the next thing I know is he's grabbing two sides of my shirt, irritated with the amount of buttons he still has to go, and promptly rips the article of clothing in half. A gasp leaves me as the ripped fabric floats to the floor and I'm suddenly standing there with my bra exposed. He steps forward, pressing his chest to my own and capturing my mouth with his own once more. He pulls away after a few seconds and slides his lips along my cheek to my ear. 

"Arthur--"

"I'll buy ya another one," he growls, suddenly falling to his knees and tugging me down with him. He maneuvers the two of us so that we're laying on my makeshift bed. My mere bedroll makes me wish that we were in that hotel again, or even in his tent with his cot, but he doesn't seem to upset with what we have. And if I'm completely honest with myself, as long as Arthur's here I could be sleeping on a rock and I'd be okay. 

I lay on my back and he moves on top of me, his elbows resting on either side of my head and his knees doing the same with my legs. He presses his soft mouth to my neck, lavishing the spot before working down to the hollow of my throat. My hands rise to thread through the long hair resting on top of his head, my chest expanding with my breaths to brush against his own. He moves one of his hands down to drift softly across the top of my breast where it's still covered by the makeshift bra. He sits up, hovering over top of my abdomen while his hands move beneath my back and lift me slightly from the ground, just enough for his hand to worm it's way behind and undo the clasp of my bra. He lowers me back down as he grabs the offending item and tugs it off to throw to the side so it joins the rapidly rising pile of stray clothing. 

We're finally equal now, and though I feel maybe I shouldn't be so comfortable being naked in front of Arthur, I  _am_. I'm not the most confident person but this also isn't the first time I've done this sort of thing, and though it may be my first time with Arthur he isn't giving me any reason why I  _should_ be uncomfortable with him. The two of us are equal now, both only wearing pants while our tops are exposed. Arthur Morgan in nothing but a pair of black jeans is something that looks so good it should be considered sinful.

He stops for a moment, looking down at me as I try to calm my heart before I go into cardiac arrest. His hands move slowly, borderline cautious as he cups my breasts, brushing his thumbs slowly across my nipples. Tiny shocks of electricity shoot through me at the small gesture and I close my eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. I'm usually not this sensitive--it must be the fact that it's  _Arthur Morgan_ doing this that has my body reacting like never before. 

He repeats the action, squeezing and kneading the flesh at the same time. "Oh, Darlin'..." he groans, "you're so beautiful. Much too beautiful for the likes of me."

"I could say the same thing about you," I say breathlessly, pushing forward more into his grasp. My fingers skim down from his shoulders, across his pecs and down to his abdomen. The bumps and ridges of his scars and muscles just further prove to me how strong Arthur truly is. 

My hand drifts farther south, slipping into his pants and feeling the cloth there. I'm guessing that usually Arthur wears a pair of long john's in the colder weather but today he opted out for something that resembles boxers, if not a little longer down the thigh. I slip my hand beneath the elastic there, feeling the curls of his hair as my hand drifts closer to my destination. Arthur takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking on it gently and pulling a soft sound from between my lips. At the same time I reach his member, feeling how it's hot and stiff already. I wrap my hand around him and he pauses, tensing up as I drift my fingers up and down him. 

"Shit," he mutters, leaning into my touch.

"You should take your pants off," I whisper, and he pulls away from my heated flesh to stand up once more. He's breathing heavily as he hurriedly kicks out of his pants and underwear. He's hard and his face is slightly flushed as he stares down at me. With him standing and me laying here I feel like a full on meal, and I get the feeling that he's thinking something along the same lines.

I pop the button of my pants and he needs no other incentive to reach down and begin to pull them off of me as well. As they slide down my legs he presses a kiss here and there to my exposed skin, balling them up and tossing them to the side once they're off. He runs his hands up my legs, stopping at the sides of my underwear. His thumbs glide along the lining of them, tickling the skin of my lower belly. 

"I really do like these," he flickers his eyes up to mine before focusing back on the item of clothing. He finally stops teasing me and pulls them down and off my legs, discarding them as well. Now that the two of us are both completely naked there's no longer anything between us, no more hiding. 

I sit up, both of us meeting in the middle to kiss the other. He sits down and I crawl up so that I'm on top of him as I gently urge him to lay back on the ground. He doesn't resist and goes along with my gentle urging, not breaking away from me the whole time. Once he's on his back I pull away, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and down the side of his face. His hands come up to rest on my back, one drifting up and along my spine while the other slides down to cup my ass like he did earlier. His fingers dig in, squeezing the flesh before releasing it. He abruptly brings his hand down with a smack and I pull back with a surprised gasp, staring down at him. He grins at me, putting his hand back on the area that he just hit and kneading the abused flesh. 

"You kinky bastard," I say, but I'm just as amused as he is. It didn't hurt, and I'm not going to lie when I say it kind of turned me on. 

"Damn right," he chuckles, the hand that was on my back cupping my neck and pulling me down to his lips once more. I only let him kiss me for a little bit, because there's something that I've been thinking of doing for a while now. Something that I want to do for Arthur, just to...show some affection. 

I slip out of his hold and he makes a sour face. I shush him, tracing my nose down his chest and to his groin. Once I'm down by his legs I look up at him briefly, storing away the image of his face in this moment. The way he's looking at me with such adoration and how he's all flustered from my attentions. It's good to know that without really doing too much I can reduce Arthur Morgan to a pile of putty. 

I gingerly wrap my hand around his shaft, rubbing my thumb over the slit at the top and taking note of the precum that's leaking. He sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils blown wide.

"What're you--"

While maintaining eye contact I lean down and take him into my mouth. As soon as the head slips past my lips he makes a choked sound, throwing his head back and clenching the bedroll beneath him tightly. As I take more and more of him in he begins to twitch slightly, his breaths coming out in sharp pants. I pace myself, knowing that even though I can control my gag reflex most of the time, Arthur is  _big_. There's no way I'll be able to fit all of him in my mouth, so whatever is left I wrap my hand around it, squeezing and stroking it softly. His taste isn't that good but it also isn't necessarily  _bad_. It's definitely better than most other things I've had in my mouth. I slide my tongue on the underside, dragging it up slowly and hollowing my cheeks as I suck lightly. Arthur jolts, his hips bucking upwards at the action. 

_"Fuck_ , Lily," he growls huskily. One of his hands drifts down to rest on top of my head, not really grabbing it but just resting to let me know he's there. As if I could possibly forget. "Ya need to stop, I'm gonna finish right now if ya don't."

I move up and down on him a few times before sliding off his cock, pushing my hair back as I have my hand resume what my mouth was previously doing. I take a breath, glancing up to find he's still on his back with his eyes screwed shut. 

"That feel good?" 

He groans, opening his eyes and looking wildly at me. One of his hands moves down to my own to halt my movements. He sits up, his forehead and chest covered in a slight sheen of sweat. 

"You're gonna kill me," his voice is hoarse but he doesn't seem too bothered by it, "I've never...that...  _where_ did ya learn to do that?"

"I know a few things, Arthur Morgan." I smirk and nuzzle my nose to his. 

"I'll try not ta think too deeply on that."

"Probably for the best."

He grabs me and I'm suddenly flipped onto my back once more. He moves down to kneel between my legs, pushing them apart so that he can have full access to my sex. He places one of his warm hands on top of it, the feeling of his rough skin a stark contrast to the sensitive flesh down there. He slowly slips one finger inside, and my breath catches as I try to move further into his hand. 

He makes a guttural sound from the back of his throat as he begins to move his finger in and out. "You're so ready for me," he says it like a praise, "so wet. Just for me."

"Just you," I agree breathlessly. 

When he withdraws his finger he grabs my knees, tugging me down the bed and closer to him until I feel his cock brush against my thigh. I stop him by placing one of my hands on top of his own. He looks at me, a pained expression on his face from being halted.

"This is horrible timing to ask this, but do you have any protection?" I was on a birth control back home that would last me a good while, and I still had a good few months before I needed another shot. But I'm not sure if it's still working here in this time period since everything else from my time didn't come back with me. I don't want to take any chances of getting pregnant right now. Maybe one day, but not when there's so much happening. 

"Shit," he shakes his head, his hands loosening on me a little bit. "My pants. Charles, uh, just check my back pocket."

I reach behind me to where Arthur's pants are and tug them closer, reaching into the pocket to pull out a tiny box. I open it up and inside there sits a condom. I'm not sure how effective they are in this time but I'll take my chances since something is better than nothing. I don't think Arthur has any STD's or anything like that either since the last time I checked him over he seemed fine. Then again I'm not sure if he would've been comfortable telling me he was experiencing problems a week ago, before we officially got together. 

I hand the condom to him and he slides it on quickly so that we can get back to what we were doing before. Once he's situated he leans down and kisses me again, making me completely forget about how the moment was briefly ruined a second ago. While still keeping his lips locked on mine he reaches down with one hand and begins to slowly enter me. I gasp into his mouth as he stretches me, filling my body in a way that it hasn't been in a very long time--if ever. His pace is achingly slow and it feels like it takes a year before he's finally all the way inside so that his pelvis is right against mine. 

"Let me know if I hurt ya," he murmurs, wrapping his hands under my knees and lifting my legs even more so that only my back is touching the ground. The new angle pushes him farther inside of me if that's even possible, pressing on areas that make me both tense up and melt beneath him. He pulls out gently, making sure that I'm not in any pain the whole time. I'm not in pain; sure it's been a while, but with the way that Arthur's been making me feel as of late I needed little to no preparation for this to begin with. 

My hands slide around Arthur's back, tugging him close so that I can bury my fingers into his flesh. "You better pick up the pace, cowboy."

He doesn't need further instruction. Arthur is suddenly ramming back into me, hitting that same delicious spot as before and pulling a gasp from my lips. He pistons in and out, and I can feel the muscles in his back move beneath my hands. He leans his head down to take one of my nipples into his mouth once more and the combination of sensations nearly makes me cry out. He must also realize that because he releases one of my legs to cover my mouth with his hand. 

"People are tryin' to sleep, Darlin'." His words are a hot brush of air across my nipple. "Need ya to be quiet--for now."

As I wrap my legs around his waist he uses his other hand to move to my clit, rubbing his thumb on the tiny area. I can feel the pleasurable sensation begin to build up in my chest, ready to take me over the edge the harder and faster he moves. As he uncovers my mouth and moves down to curl his fingers around my neck, squeezing the flesh there lightly enough that I can still breathe but just tight enough that my airflow is somewhat restricted, everything around me clashes into one giant crescendo and I hit my orgasm with a strangled cry, softly calling Arthur's name. The already dark tent we're in goes completely black and my body feels as though it's singing, the pressure that had been building finally released. There's a faint tingling sensation that drifts from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes. 

When my senses come back to me Arthur is beginning to slow inside of me until he stills and cums with a low sound in his chest. He takes in a deep breath, staying inside of me for a moment before pulling out and pulling the condom off. He ties it up and tosses it to the side, gently untangling my legs from around his waist and lowering them to the ground.

* * *

 

He reaches across my prone body and grabs one of my blankets, unfolding it and covering our nakedness before he lays down beside me. He reaches over and tugs on me until I'm laying on top of his chest, my head just beneath his chin. My legs tangle with his as he holds me tightly in one of his arms, his other hand moving idly up and down my back. It's a pleasant and soothing action that helps to calm my body down after what just happened. 

The two of us are silent for a moment, our heavy breathing the only sound in the night. We can't even hear the others outside so they're either far away or asleep in their tents. 

"You..." Arthur speaks first, his voice a low rumble beneath my ear, "what did I do to get so lucky with you, Lily Edwards?"

I snuggle more into his hold, letting out a sigh against his chest through my nose. "I could say the same thing with you, Arthur Morgan."

"I haven't, well, it's been a while. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me." 

I sit up just enough to kiss him lightly, closing my eyes as he leans into it. It's soft, some of the passion from before lingering in the shadows but we both know that after all that we need a short break. 

Hopefully very short.

"It was better," I tell him when we part, laying back down and feeling his arms tighten around me at the admission. "You have someone to come home to now, Arthur. That means that you have to be careful out there, or else I'll hunt you down and you won't like it when I find you."

"I will," he agrees quietly, "but that last part sounds like fun."

He chuckles when I smack his chest. I shake my head but can't help but laugh myself. Men's minds are usually on one thing and one thing only--sex. Naturally Arthur would still be thinking of that. 

"Get some sleep," he says quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, "we have a meetin' to go to tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Arthur." I mumble, closing my eyes and settling into his hold. He lets out a sigh, tugging the blankets up further around us as the cold air finally starts to overcome the heat that had just filled this tent. 

"G'night my sweet Lily," he says quietly. Neither of us says anything more so I drift off to sleep, happy and content in this tiny tent.

 


	23. A Short Walk in a Pretty Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about taking forever to get this chapter out. This past week got away from me and I needed more time than expected to catch up. I'm hoping to continue posting on Wednesday's and Sunday's, this past week was just the exception. Things are heating up, so stay tuned!
> 
> Question: Who do you think is the most misunderstood character in the game?

When I wake up the next morning I'm alone. I can't say that I'm not a little disappointed to find that Arthur isn't here with me, but as I spot the tiny piece of paper folded on top of my clothing--which even though they aren't quite folded, they are put into one pile instead of thrown everywhere--my chest warms up and everything's okay. Unfolding the paper I find Arthur's pretty writing. 

_Went hunting with Charles. He knew he could find me with you. Two of us must've been quite a sight for him to find._

_I'll meet you in Rhodes around noon. The other's will already be there and as soon as we finish our business I promise to take ya out to a nice dinner._

_I'll miss you until then._

_Arthur_

I sit up, clutching the blanket close to me as the cold air hits me. I'm still naked so i scramble to pull some new clothes out, tugging them on and getting myself ready in the morning before stepping out of the tent. I must have slept in a little later than usual because the sun is nearly at the sky's peak and Uncle is actually awake. Granted, he isn't doing anything, but he is awake. I guess that's a step forward in the right direction. 

"You look awfully chipper this mornin'," Abigail says cheekily over by her tent as I walk past, "had a fun time last night?"

My face heats as I see that knowing glint in her eye. "Oh, god. You didn't...nobody heard or..."

She laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. "I'm just teasin' ya. I just figured somethin' happened, everybody was mostly out of it last night. Don't worry about it."

I give a strained smile and walk over to Pearson's wagon, fixing myself a bowl of oatmeal. I go over to the poker table and sit, waiting for my food to cool down some before I begin to eat. Sometimes I miss the simple delicacies of a good bowl of cereal, but it's hard to keep things cooled here so we don't have milk a lot. Or cereal, for that matter. 

For the next couple of hours I busy myself with catching up on the chores around camp that Miss Grimshaw wanted me to help her with. I know how much the other ladies hate doing what she says so I try to do the less pleasant things to give them a break every once in a while. Besides, some of this stuff isn't that bad. It definitely makes me appreciate what I had back home, though. 

As I was taking peoples' clothing back to their tents I bump into Molly while she's exiting her shared tent with Dutch and she looks...upset. I haven't really talked to her nearly as much as I have the others, so I'm not sure how she'll react if I ask her what's wrong and get into her business. 

"Molly?" I call softly, setting the folded pile of clothing on the small table just inside of their tent. Dutch isn't around so I'm wondering if that also has something to do with why she's in a foul mood. "Is everything alright?"

Molly pauses, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she looks off into the distance. "Just not very good company right now, is all."

I stop myself from making a face. That's her answer anytime someone tries to get her to do something with them. "Are you sure? If you want to talk about anything then I'm here to listen."

Her face tightens and for a moment there I almost think she's going to actually listen to me but she just lets out a frustrated sound and turns, stomping away over to the water. 

Well, that was _almost_ something. 

I walk over to my tent and gather a few supplies before I head into Rhodes. I change into a white shirt with my usual black riding pants. I have yet to wear a dress in this time period and let me say this once: when I wear a dress it had better be for a  _damn_  good reason. 

It takes me about twenty minutes to saddle Chewie up, and I make sure to slip Bishop some treats before I head out towards Rhodes. I'm proud of the fact that I can now find the small town without any help from the others, and it's also nice to have some alone time. There's always the hustle and bustle of camp, and not that I have anything against it, but every now and again it's nice to be able to sort my thoughts. Riding out here in the semi-warm weather while Chewie and I take our time getting to our destination? I could happily stay here for a while. 

Sadly I arrive at Rhodes a little faster than I had hoped. I'm a little surprised as to what I find, though. There aren't many people outside, which is odd considering what time of day it is. I stop outside the saloon, hitching Chewie to the post alongside some other horses. I don't see any of the ones from camp so I'm wondering if I got here before the others did. I am hungry though, so I decide that I'll go inside and order a drink or something. 

As I walk up the steps and through the swinging doors I attract a few stares from the men inside. There aren't many, but the men in there seem to be on the rougher side of things. They're big and burly and a few of them instinctively reach for the guns attached to their hips. I pause, staring at them wide-eyed while they seem to relax in their seats. They go back to conversing among themselves, eyes flickering over to me every once in a while. 

Standing there long enough for my heart to stop racing, I make my way over to the same bar where Sadie had me lure those two O'Driscoll's outside. The bartender walks over to me, slinging his towel over his shoulder in the process. 

"Anything I can get for you?"

"I'll take a water for now, please."

He nods, bending down to get a glass and then beginning to fill it. Once he hands it to me I take a sip, placing it back down on the wood and glancing around the saloon. It's weird, I don't see Sheriff Gray or his deputy around here. Aren't they supposed to be meeting them here?

"Little lady," a low voice grumbles behind me. I turn, finding one of the burly men who was gun-happy when I first walked in now standing behind me. He's clutching a drink in his hand, leaning against the bar and trying appear nonchalant while he talks to me without actually looking at me. "If I was you, I'd get out of here. Now."

"What?" I ask, now confused beyond all belief as to why everyone that I've interacted with is being so weird all of a sudden. Is it a full moon or something?

He doesn't answer my question, just wanders back over to where he must have been sitting before. There's the beginnings of a  _very_  bad feeling brewing in my stomach, and being around all these people isn't helping it any. I just want to find Arthur and the others and get far away from here. 

I put down some money for my drink and book it out of the saloon, feeling eyes on my back the entire way. I push out of the doors, looking over my shoulder to make sure I'm not being followed. I hurry down the steps and over to Chewie, untying him and getting ready to jump on and ride off if I need to. 

Down at the other side of town I can faintly see Arthur riding in on Winston. He jumps off near the post office and walks over to the next building where I now see Micah, Bill, and Sean are seated on the steps. Micah stands up, Sean walking alongside him while Bill and Arthur follow behind. Even though he's not near me right now, just seeing my cowboy makes me feel better than I did before. I leave Chewie there and begin walking towards the group, ready to get on with whatever business that's supposed to go down here. 

A glint in the afternoon sunlight captures my attention. I glance up at the rooftop of one of the buildings and I have to shield my face with my hand so that I can see past the harsh glare of the sun. 

_Is that...is that a man?_

I stop as something near the man shines once again. I peer closer, straining my eyes to try to make out just what it is that he's holding...

My breathing stops and my body instantly turns cold. 

It's a gun. And it's aimed right at the guys as they walk over here. 

It's almost as though my head is being dunked underneath the surface of cold water as something that was stuffed away to the back of my mind suddenly comes forward. 

_A gunshot. A body falling to the ground. A hole in Sean's face as he lays lifeless._

I come back to myself, a gasp leaving my lips as I suddenly realize why I have been getting this weird feeling ever since Arthur told me that this meeting was going down. This whole thing was a set up. They're going to kill Sean and try to kill the others. 

And the man on the roof is beginning to line up a shot as they get closer to the saloon. 

I start running, not quite sure if I'm actually breathing right now as I move faster than I have before towards the Irish man. Sean turns around while he starts walking backwards, talking to the others. Any moment now the gun is going to be fired and Sean is going to die. 

Oh, God, Karen. I can't let Sean die. I  _can't_  let him die!

As I get closer to the group Micah notices me first, glaring at me. Bill simply rolls his eyes shakes his head. Arthur, however, gets a small grin when he looks up at me. His grin quickly falters and turns into a look of concern as I get closer and he sees how I'm running towards them. 

"Get down!" I shout, pointing at the rooftop where the man is stationed. They look at me in confusion, not understanding what I'm trying to say. 

"What are you goin' on about?" Bill asks. Sean turns back around, raising a brow at me. 

"Lily?" He asks, and I swear if that's the last thing that I hear in that adorable Irish accent I'll  _kill_  somebody. Again. 

Time seems to slow down as I get closer. They finally get the idea that I'm not stopping, and since none of them haven't moved yet I decide to take matters into my own hands. I leap forward, crashing straight into Sean's chest just as a gun fires in the distance. There's no spray of blood but there is a burning sensation on my right shoulder as the two of us crash onto the ground. 

_"Lily!"_  

There's a ringing in my ears as I roll off of Sean's chest with a groan to the dirt below. More gunshots sound out as someone grabs my arms, pulling me out of the middle of the street and up one of the porches of a neighboring building. I open my eyes to find Sean shielding my body with his own as we try to be as small as possible in this tiny shelter. 

"You bloody idiot," Sean shouts over all the commotion, bringing one of his hands up to my shoulder. I glance over to find the area on my once-white shirt now stained a dark red. 

"Sean," I look back at him, completely ignoring myself, "you're alive. Oh my god, you're  _alive!"_

A large crease appears between his brows as he looks at me. "You're shot!"

As I look at the wound I begin to feel the pain coming to the surface as the adrenaline begins to wear off. I lift my opposite hand up and lightly prod at the wound, wincing at the pain that flares. It's just a graze against the top of my shoulder but  _damn_  if it doesn't hurt. 

"Sean!" Arthur yells from where he's currently firing at the saloon. I look back to find the men who were in there with me earlier are now outside and joining in on the gun fight.

"I'm over here!" He calls back, whipping out one of his pistols and firing it over the top of our hiding spot. He must have lost his shotgun when I tackled him. 

"Where's Lily?!" 

"She's with me!" He fires once more and focuses back on me, the usually teasing look on his face now serious and worried. His eyes flicker from my face and back to my shoulder. "How're ya feelin', Lily? Huh? Why the  _fuck_  would ya do somethin so stupid like that?" As he gets more worked up with each word his accent becomes thicker and thicker, nearly to the point where if he continues to speak so fast I won't be able to understand a single word he's saying.

I let out a humorless laugh that quickly gets cut short as moving right now just brings me pain. "They were going to kill you, Sean."

His face scrunches at that and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to my forehead before standing and moving out to help the others fend off the people of Rhodes. I crawl out of my corner of the porch and try to peek over the railing but a gun fires in my direction and takes a chunk out of the wood. I fall back down and cover my head with a small scream, not quite knowing what to fucking do in this situation.

_"Lily!"_  Arthur's voice cuts through all other sounds, his voice desperate. 

"Arthur!" 

"Keep shootin'!" Micah shouts. "It's the damn Gray's, Morgan!"

"No shit, Sherlock!" I yell back at him. God, if only I had a gun or  _something_  where I could be helping them right now instead of hiding here like a sitting duck. 

"They're hidin' out in the gun store!" 

"Sean, go back to Lily!" Arthur orders and I look over to see him trying to run to the back of the store. A few seconds later and Sean is back at my side, tucking his gun away and grabbing hold of my good arm to pull me to my feet. He keeps us low as he ushers me into the building we were hiding in front of. Once we're inside he shuts the door and locks it, lowering me down to the ground once more before going to stand by the window and breaking the glass so that he can shoot out of it. 

I look around and find that we're in the general store. It's no doctor's office but they'll definitely have something that I can use for my shoulder right now. I begin to crawl across the floor until I'm behind the counter. The cashier must have left once the shooting started, or he joined in; I'm really hoping it's the former. 

"Some o' them are startin' to run away," Sean tells me, and I can almost see the smile on his face, "they know better than to mess with the Van Der Linde's."

"We  _told_  Dutch this was a setup," I hiss, beginning to unbutton my shirt, "we should've stopped this long ago. You almost fucking  _died_  because of this stupidity!"  _You were supposed to die, but I stopped it._

_My god, I saved Sean._

When I was running towards Sean, I wasn't sure if it was going to work or not. Since I couldn't stop Arthur from being kidnapped I had no clue if my interference with what was supposed to be Sean's death would actually work, but I guess it did. What does this mean? Are there other things I could do? But I didn't remember that Sean was even supposed to die until  _right_  before it happened, and back home I never finished the game so I don't know what the ending even is. What could I possibly do?

I finish with the last few button of my shirt and pull the cloth back from my right side just enough that it's no longer touching the ruined flesh. The blood made some of it sticky and so peeling it away hurts like a bitch, but I push through and finish pulling it off. 

"What's happening out there?" I ask, reaching forward underneath the counter and rummaging through the glass bottles. They're tonics, so one of them  _has_  to be able to help me with this. 

"Micah and Arthur are headin' over to the Sheriff's station," Sean tells me, still watching intently out the window, "I don't see Bill."

"Is he dead?"

"No, I don't see his body. It'd be hard ta miss."

Finally finding a bottle that I guess will suffice for now, I pull the cork out with my teeth and drink about half of it. Once I'm done choking and coughing at the awful burn the liquid leaves in my throat I move over to the other end and pull out some white bandages. I'll need help putting this on later, but for now I need to find something to clean the wound with. 

_"Fuck,"_   Sean curses under his breath, "Sheriff Gray and his deputies have Bill. Micah is tellin' them to shoot him."

"He  _what!"_  I cry, accidentally pressing too hard on my wound and breaking it open once more so that fresh blood runs down my front and back. I suck in air through my teeth, scrunching my face up as what feels like the fires of a thousand suns burns on my skin. Hot tears build in the corners of my eyes but I refuse to let them fall, no sir, not right now. There's shit happening right now and I will  _not_  break down in this moment.

There are four, five,  _six_  gunshots that suddenly ring out, all of them fired in a close period of time. I scramble to my feet, leaning on the register counter as Sean pushes away from the wall and stands directly in front of the window. That must be a good sign that he's not hiding anymore, right?

A few seconds later and there's a pounding of boots on wood outside the building before Arthur is ramming his shoulder into the door and throwing it wide open so it bangs off the wall behind it. He gets his footing, looking around wildly before he finally locks his eyes on me. He doesn't hesitate in running to my side, opting to jump over the counter instead of walking around to the opening. His arms instinctively reach out and pull me close to his chest as I do the same to him. He holds me there, his grip so tight that I can't help but let out a hiss of pain from how it's making my shoulder bunch up. He stiffens and instantly pulls back, one hand reaching up to cup my face while the other gently holds onto my arm. He eyes my wound, face contorting as he looks at all the blood on me. 

"What the  _hell_  were ya thinkin'?" He doesn't shout but with the way his words are delivered he might as well have. 

"I saw the gunman, Arthur. He was going to shoot Sean."

Arthur stares at me, a million emotions moving across his face before finally settling on something akin to relief. He sighs, closing his eyes and pulling me against him once more. He's gentler this time, making sure to be wary of my right side. He pulls back just enough to tip my head up so he can press his lips on my own, the fear and desperation he must have felt out there bleeding through and into my own body. 

"I'm okay," I breathe when he pulls back and I can press my face to his chest, listening to his heart hammering even beneath all his layers of clothing, "I'm here. Everyone's okay."

"Morgan!" Micah yells from outside the store, and after helping me get some more medical supplies, the three of us leave the tiny building and go out to the middle of the town. 

There are bodies  _everywhere_. I glance towards my left and see Sheriff Gray's body laying on the front steps of the jail, his deputies not too far away. There are other nameless faces who lie in their own pools of blood in the dirt, with the occasional man hanging over a railing from a second story building. Those who weren't involved in the gun fight must have hightailed it out of here, not wanting any part of this whole feud. The carnage here nearly makes me sick, though I know it was either them or us. We're just lucky that we're all alive. 

_Sean's alive_. 

"We need to get out of here before the law shows up," Micah moves quickly over to his horse, Bill doing the same. Sean and Arthur go over to their own horses while I head back towards the rear of the saloon where Chewie must have run off to when the shooting started. Poor horse really doesn't like guns. I can't blame him. 

Just as I mount up Arthur is already riding up to my side on Winston, eyeing me carefully. 

"Are you okay to ride by yourself?"

I cast him a look. "It's just my arm, Arthur. I'll be fine until we get back to camp."

He looks unsure but nods anyway, gesturing for me to ride on ahead of him as we start back towards camp. Micah and Bill have already left while Sean joins the three of us as we pass by the post office. We ride out of there, our horses stirring up a large cloud of dust in our wake. 

Once we arrive back at camp, most of the others are there and ready to meet us. Micah and Bill's horses are already unsaddled and off to the side so the two of them must have spread the word about what happened in Rhodes. 

I dismount from Chewie and am instantly swarmed by Mary-Beth and Tilly. They're talking over one another, worrying over my wound and saying that I should've been more careful. 

"Girls!" I stop them, taking a half a step away from them. "I'm okay, really. I just need to get this wrapped."

They stop talking but the concern on their faces doesn't go away. Tilly scurries off to the medical wagon while Mary-Beth steers me over to my tent. Arthur watches me the whole time, quickly taking care of both of our horses before going over to where Dutch is having a heated discussion with Micah and Hosea. 

"Here, let's get you out of that shirt." Mary-Beth says quietly. She helps me to unbutton the rest of my shirt and pull it off for me so that I don't have to hurt myself further. Tilly slips inside the tent as well, putting the supplies down on my tiny table. 

With the two of them helping me I get cleaned up and my wound wrapped in around twenty minutes. I thank the both of them and they leave, taking the items with them as they go. As I step out of the tent it seems that things have calmed down--if only a little bit. 

I don't see Arthur so I'm guessing that he's still talking with Dutch and them. There's a group of them gathered around the campfire so I decide to make my way over there. 

Someone's suddenly wrapping their arms around me and halting me in my steps. I tense up, not knowing who it is currently touching me. I hear some soft crying, and as I look over my shoulder I relax when I see that it's just Karen. 

"Oh, Lily," she says quietly, tears in her eyes, "you saved him. Thank you so much. I-I don't know what I would've done if he..."

"Shh," I tell her, turning around and holding her properly. "It's okay. I know how much he means to you."

After Sean died in the game, Karen was a different person. She shut down, drinking more and being less and less of a member of the group. His death hit everyone hard, but it was horrible for her. I'm just glad that I was able to prevent it. Oh, god. I just hope that I can do some good in this game. 

* * *

 

"Missed ya at dinner," Arthur says as he pushes aside the flap to my tent, stepping inside. I look up at him from where I'm already laying in bed, ready to just sleep off this horrible day. 

"Wasn't very hungry."

He frowns at that, beginning to discard his hat and belts before getting to work on his clothes. "The others was askin' about ya."

I shrug, turning over onto my good side and tugging the blankets up around me. "I talked to them before I came back here. They know I'm okay."

There's some shuffling and then Arthur is sliding in behind me, his body an instant furnace against my body. I sigh, moving closer to him and enjoying the warmth. He wraps an arm over my side and lays the other one down under my head. We're both quiet for another few minutes as I stare at the side of the tent, not quite able to sleep. 

"Is everythin' okay?"

Arthur's question is so quiet that I almost don't hear it at first. Is everything okay? I'm not sure. After the rush of the whole affair calmed down I realized just how bad things actually were in Rhodes. I may have saved Sean, but there could have been repercussions that I didn't know about. What if one life was traded for another? I wouldn't have been too sad if Micah or Bill had died in his place, but what if it had been  _Arthur?_

"I don't know." My voice is barely above a whisper. Arthur suddenly shifts me around so that I'm now laying on top of his chest instead of on my side. He places one hand on my back and it grounds me in this moment so that I stop thinking of earlier today for even just a few moments. 

"Sean wants to talk to you tomorrow, he was just busy with Karen. She wouldn't let go of him once he was back in camp. Nearly everyone knows about the two of 'em now. They don't try to hide anymore." He sighs, the act of it lifting and lowering my head with his chest. "That was mighty brave what you did today, but please don't do that again. If somethin' had happened, I..."

I reach up and kiss him lightly. "Just like I told the others earlier--I'm okay. But, Arthur," I look at him seriously, "I don't regret what I did. I would do it again."

He flickers back and forth between my eyes, and I can tell that he doesn't like what I'm saying to him. He doesn't say a word and just pulls me down on top of him once more, adjusting himself so that he won't irritate my shoulder. 

"I can only hope it never comes to that."


	24. Bloodfeuds, Ancient and Modern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A N G S T
> 
> Next chapter will be posted tomorrow (fingers crossed anyways lmao)
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you for the encouraging words these past few weeks! I'm sorry it took me so long to get back into things, college was Wild. I hope you enjoy this chapter and have a great Sunday!

Arthur doesn't leave me the next morning like he normally does. He's awake before I am but doesn't vacate our little sleep space, one arm tucked beneath his head while he holds me close with his other one. I'm surprised, considering Arthur is usually up and out doing things for the camp by the time that I decide to crawl out of bed.

"Why're you still here?" I mumble, a yawn cutting some of my words off. Arthur's mouth quirks slightly as he watches me.

"Wanted to enjoy this," he says simply, sighing and settling further into the blankets, "yesterday was a...stressful day for all of us. We can afford a break."

"Dutch won't like that."

"I'll worry about him, you worry about restin' up." He presses a kiss to the top of my head and I snuggle back up on his chest once more.

Sometime later the two of us decide that we should probably be getting up and going out to mingle with the others. He helps me to check my shoulder as I dress, trying my best to hide my pain as I stretch and pull on the skin that's beginning to grow back, though I know he notices it by the way his features turn down.

Arthur goes over to speak with Charles about something while I look for Mary-Beth and Tilly. I know they were worried about me so I'm going to try to make them feel better by spending the whole day proving to them that I'm okay. I find them over by their tents with Karen, already started on the laundry for today. When they notice me coming they perk up, smiles coming across their faces. I sit down beside them, taking some of the shirts from Karen's pile and helping her sew the holes up. Surprisingly, my ability to sew wounds is very handy for this sort of chore. I don't mind it that much, it's calming to be able to do some good while reminding me of my job back home. Bittersweet, almost.

"Look who finally decided to wake up," Tilly says, shooting me a knowing look. I shake my head with a soft laugh.

"We were just enjoying the morning,  _nothing more_." I emphasize, making it clear that what she's hinting at didn't actually happen. "He helped me with my shoulder and then we came out here."

I can feel Karen's eyes staring at my shoulder. She wants to say something, I can tell, but something is holding her back. I pause in my sewing, glancing in her direction and meeting her gaze. I raise a brow in question and she frowns.

"Lily, I can't put into words how what you did makes me feel, but I do know that I'm terribly sorry you got hurt for doin' it."

I wave a hand, ignoring the tug at my skin. "I'm fine." My voice lowers, the severity of what could have been once more plaguing my mind. "I'm just glad I could intervene before something worse happened."

"Speakin' of," a male voice adds, and I look behind me to see Sean walking over, the usual cocky grin on his face a tiny bit strained, "you and I need to share some words, Miss Edwards."

I take his offered hand and let him help me to my feet. Placing my stack of clothing off to the side so that I can come back to it later, I follow after Sean and let him lead me over towards the shoreline where we're a little ways away from the others. He stops at the beginnings of the dock, glancing at me once before looking out over the lake. I let the silence settle around us, knowing that even though Sean is a very talkative man he must be out of his depth right now.

"You did somethin' for me yesterday that nobody else has ever done, let alone thought o' doin'." His accent is thick as he talks quietly, his voice taking on a serious tone that I've never heard come out of his mouth before.

"I couldn't just let you  _die_ , Sean."

His eyes flick over to me at that, a furrow between his brows. He stares at me and I can see him clenching his jaw. "Other's would've."

"I'm not 'others'. I'm me. I'm a doctor. I save lives, it's what I've sworn to do."

"I don't think that meant nearly having yours taken away in the process, girly." He glances down at my wound. "Does it hurt?"

I shrug, not wanting to make him feel bad. "Just in the back of my mind. It's nothing that I can't handle."

In reality the pain is very hard to deal with, but it helps to keep me distracted. I've been taking sips of Arthur's liquor here and there just to take the edge off, but it's still throbbing and a nuisance to deal with. Sean doesn't need to know that, though. He looks like he's already beating himself up enough as it is that I don't want to make it any worse.

"Between us," he starts, looking once more towards the water, "I'm plannin' on marryin' Karen. A proper wedding and everythin'. Not yet, no, but soon. If you hadn't stepped in yesterday then that would nae be happenin'." I stare at his profile and I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "I owe you my life, Lily. And I don't say that sort o' thing lightly."

I grab his arm, gaining his attention and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. His face blushes and he gets a surprised look on his face. "You just marry that woman and give her a happy life and we'll call it even."

Sean smiles, though it's different from his other ones. This one is more shy, a little more reserved. It warms my heart.

_ "Jack!" _

Sean and I turn around towards camp, finding Abigail moving quickly as she calls for her son. Her hair is in disarray and looks as though she could collapse at any moment. My mind instantly turns towards the time when Jack nearly drowned and I look back out over the water.

_ Jack isn't there, and he knows how to swim by himself a little now, at least enough so that there would be time for someone to get him out of the _  water.

"What's going on?" Dutch steps out of his tent and looks at her with concern. Arthur isn't far behind him.

"My boy!" Abigail cries, and I see John begin to walk over from where he was on guard duty. Why does everything happen when he's supposed to be watching the camp? "They took my goddamn son!"

"Who?" Dutch asks calmly.

"We think the Braithwaite's had something to do with it," Hosea offers, moving quickly in our direction. He points back towards the far side of the lake. "That Kieran saw a couple of fellers, said they sounded like Braithwaite boys."

_ Braithwaite manor burned to the ground. Bodies everywhere. _

I blink away the sudden images that flash in front of me. Is this another one of my memories? Is this what's going to happen? I don't know anymore. It frustrates me to no end. I could be more help than I am now if I just knew what I was dealing with. Not knowing what's going to happen next is how real life is supposed to work, but this  _isn't_  real life. I should get to have an advantage here, but fate just likes to play cruel tricks on me by slowly stealing my memories away from me. I  _hate_  it.

"Where is my son? If anything..." I go to the poor woman's side and let her lean on me as she seems to deflate on herself. She straightens up suddenly and faces Dutch, a hard look on her face that only a worried mother can make. "Where is my son, Dutch Van Der Linde?"

Dutch's features harden as he faces her. "We will find him, we will bring him back to you, and we will  _kill_  any fool that had the temerity to touch one hair on that boy's head. Abigail, you have my word."

She shakes her head. "Just get me back my son."

"I will get that boy back right now, so help me God." He stiffens and starts to march over towards the horses. The fire that Dutch is exuding right now must be reminiscent of the man he used to be, the man who got all these people together in the first place. It makes me feel closer to all of them, makes me want to trust in Dutch more knowing that he's so willing to go after a member of this little family as passionately as he is now.

_ Where was this for Arthur? _

Some of the other men come out from where they were, lead by Bill. "Dutch!" He calls, but the older man doesn't falter in his steps, merely turning his head to acknowledge him. "We just heard about Jack. You need some extra guns?"

"Yeah, why not." Dutch nods, and all the men head towards their ride. "Micah, Kieran, anyone strange turns up you  _kill_  'em!"

"Arthur," I call, stepping momentarily away from Abigail as Mary-Beth takes over what I was doing. He pauses on his way to Winston, glancing at me over his shoulder. "Do you need me to come with you? Just in case?"

He mulls it over, but when his eyes go down to my shoulder he shakes his head. "Stay with Abigail. She needs ya."

I frown at the way he brushes me off. Sure, I wouldn't be much help with a gun out there, but if one of them got hurt it would be best if I was with them.

"Arthur, I really think I should go with--"

"Don't fight with me on this, Lily." His words are curt. I know that I shouldn't be so upset by it considering how close I know he is with Jack and that he must be affected by his kidnapping, but I know Arthur, and I also know that he usually only takes that tone of voice when talking down to someone.

I do my best to keep the hurt out of my voice. "I don't want to fight. I'm just saying that--"

_ "No.  _ I can't have you gettin' in the way out there!" He lets out a noise of frustration through clenched teeth. "You ain't comin' with, and that's  _final_."

I take a step back, crossing my arms protectively in front of my chest. "You are  _not_  my boss, Arthur Morgan." Everytime that I've said his full name, it's either been in a teasing or endearing fashion. This time, however, there's enough venom in my voice to take down ten men. And though my words are quiet, it's still loud enough for him to get the message loud and clear.

Arthur notices my defensive position and something flickers across his eyes. It's gone a moment later, the steel look of determination overtaking his features once more as he notices the men behind him begin to ride out. "You had better listen to me Lily, or you ain't gonna like the consequences. Don't follow us."

Arthur turns without another word and mounts Winston, following the others as they leave the camp in a cloud of dust stirred up beneath the horse's hooves. Dutch told Sadie that she was to watch over us while they were gone, so she comes over to the few of us that remain and we all move towards Pearson to try to eat some of the lunch. Some of the girls throw me sympathetic looks, having heard the way that Arthur just talked to me. There are more pressing matters here at hand though, so I ignore them and move to Abigail's side.

There's a tense silence that surrounds us, and even Miss Grimshaw doesn't try to say anything as we wait. For once she doesn't get on the other girls about finishing the chores in camp, knowing that we just need to be here for Abigail in her time of need while we wait to find out any news on Jack. We act like we're going to eat, like the majority of men in camp aren't all riding out to what we know is going to be a bloody battle and that our youngest member's life is at stake.

I'm the first one to turn down the bowl of stew that Pearson offers. He nods knowingly, not questioning it. Abigail also declines, instead choosing to move over to her tent and surround herself with her son's belongings. I saw the look in John's eyes. He's going to make sure his son comes back.

"There's no use in just sittin' here," Micah calls, looking between all of us with his hands on his hips, "might as well get some of them chores done."

"Feel free, Mr. Bell." Miss Grimshaw says wryly, copying his stance and staring staring him down.

His eyes flicker over to me and narrow. I scoff, walking away from the group and over to Abigail. She idly folds some of Jack's shirts, placing them in a neat pile off to the side. I feel so bad for her, I can't imagine what it feels like to have the one thing you love most in the world taken out from under you and you have no clue if they're safe or not. I sit down on the ground by her feet, drawing my legs up close to my chest with my arms wrapped around them and letting the silence settle around us. I rest my chin on top of my knees, playing the conversation that Arthur and I had over in my head. Why was he so  _mean_  about it?

"I have half a mind to go out there myself and get him back." Abigail mutters, her true emotions thick in her voice as she speaks. I glance up and see her eyes are red and her mouth is curled down in a frown.

"I don't think that would be the best idea right now."

"I'm sure I'd do a better job at not gettin' in the way." She hisses at me, pausing in folding Jack's shirt. I tense up, staring straight ahead and avoiding her penetrating gaze. Clearly she  _also_  heard what Arthur said to me.

She sighs, dropping her face into her hands. "I-I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't mean that. I'm just worried. I don't mean to take it out on you."

I relax a little bit, still choosing not to look at her. "It's okay. I understand."

"That ain't right what Arthur said." She sniffles. "He don't understand that we're more than just simple women."

I fold in on myself. "He's not wrong, Abigail. When we were in that shooting at Rhodes, I didn't do a damn thing. I just hid in the store like some child, unable to help them. I can't shoot, I can't fight. Any one of those men could have easily overpowered me."

"Lily, you saved Sean's life. You got shot in the process." My hand unconsciously drifts up to brush against my shoulder at her words. "If you hadn't been there then we would have buried a family member instead of fixing a simple graze. You know how to do things that nobody else I've ever met does. You're priceless, Lily Edwards."

"It's a shame Arthur can't see that." My eyes burn and I feel tears begin to well up in my eyes as I say that.

"Oh, he does. I think he blames himself for lettin' that to you even happen in the first place."

I wipe away a stray tear, peering up at the young mother. "Aren't I supposed to be making  _you_  feel better right now, not the other way around?"

She smiles, weak as it may be. "I'm worried sick and right now you're a welcome distraction. I know those men that are out there and looking for my son right now, but I can't help but worry. I'll always worry. If I don't think of something else right now then I don't know what I'll do, so this is my best option."

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "I'll talk about anything to make you feel better."

Her lips thin and she tries to put a brave face, but I know that bringing up the fact that her son is who knows where has ruined what little mood we had. Her smile falters and I can see the tears once more beginning to come forward and so I move off the ground and onto the bed beside her. She takes in a shaky breath that comes out as a cry before burying her head in my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close and just giving her this comfort now that she needs it.  

Slowly the other women begin to join us. Tilly and Mary-Beth sit where I previously was, while Karen perches on a crate just outside the tent. Miss Grimshaw brings over a shirt to sew and settles down near our tiny group and gets to work, glancing in Abigail's direction every once in a while. I know the girls really don't like her at times, but it's plain to see that she's just looking out for the people in this camp. Even Sadie comes over, sitting next to Karen and beginning to clean her horse's bridle. Molly is the only one who doesn't join, instead remaining inside of Dutch's tent. 

So we sit like this for a few more hours, not really doing much but being a comforting presence in Abigail's time of need. We make light conversation, brushing over topics that don't get too heavy. By the time dinner rolls around the men aren't back yet. I can see that the worry is beginning to eat Abigail alive so I force her and the other women to follow me over to Pearson so we can get some food in her before she passes out. 

Just as we're finishing up our food, Kieran shouts something and our attention is diverted over towards the entrance to camp. The men are back, though as I strain my eyes and look between them, my insides twist nervously as I don't spot Jack. 

Abigail is up and out of her seat in an instant, not hesitating and also not afraid of the horses as she runs straight to Dutch. There's a hopeful look on her face, but telling by the steel in his eyes I know he doesn't have good news. He slides off of The Count, landing gracefully in front of her and gently taking her shoulders in his hands while leading her away to the side. We watch with bated breath while he murmurs something in her ear, a stifled cry escaping her. Dutch immediately embraces her and holds her close, giving her the comfort that she needs right now. 

They didn't get Jack. He's either dead or he wasn't with the Braithwaite's. 

John slips in, taking Abigail away from Dutch. She complies at first, leaning on him but then a moment later she's pulling away, screaming something unintelligible in his direction before storming off. John stands there, not knowing what to do. He rubs a hand across his forehead for a moment before reluctantly walking after her. 

"He wasn't with 'em." The familiar drawl of a certain cowboy sounds from behind me. I stiffen, his words from before instantly popping to the forefront of my brain. "Some men came and took the kid. We're gonna go in and get him back."

I clear my throat, standing from the table without a glance in his direction. "Good." 

I feel his eyes staring holes into my back as I walk away from him and over to my tent. From the telling sound of spurs behind me I can tell that he's chosen to follow me. Even after the talk I had with Abigail I'm not in the mood to talk to Arthur right now. I'm still angry about the words he said to me earlier and I don't even think he's sorry for saying it. 

"Lily, slow down!" Arthur growls when I storm into my tent and close the flap behind me. He shoves it aside and walks in anyway, completely ignoring me doing the equivalent of slamming a door in his face. 

"What do you want?" I ask, turning on my heel to finally face him with my arms folded across my chest. I feel my breath catch at his appearance. His clothes are completely filthy, with some blood spatters here and there. I can tell that it's not his blood, but I don't know if that really makes me feel any better. Knowing that he was out there taking peoples' lives, even if it was for Jack's sake. He's frowning at me, evident displeasure protruding from his stance. 

"Why are you actin' like this?" 

I sigh, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. "It's been a long day, Arthur. I think we just need some sleep."

I open my eyes to find Arthur watching me. His hands rest tightly on his hips as he tries to read beneath the simple mask I'm wearing, trying to hide how truly upset I am with him right now. He nods, looking to the ground momentarily. 

"I'll just go wash up and be back after I change my clothes--"

"No," I cut him off with a shake of my head, "I think you should sleep in your own tent tonight."

His eyes narrow at this. He leans forward, clearly confused. "What are you goin' on about?"

I turn back around, beginning to pull out my night clothes. "Just go, Arthur."

He reaches out and grabs my arm. I instantly recoil, yanking my arm out of his grasp. "Don't  _touch_  me."

"What is wrong?" A pause. "Is this because of what I said earlier?"

"You can't talk to me like you did. That doesn't fly with me."

"Doesn't  _fly_ \--Lily, listen to yourself. All I did was tell you that you couldn't come with us."

"No." My voice hardens. "You talked down to me like I was some child. You told me I would 'get in the way', and that basically your word was gospel."

He softens his voice, reaching forward to try to take my hands in his own. "Lily, I only said that for you. I knew it was goin' to get dirty out there and I didn't want you gettin' hurt--"

"You're  _not_  my boss, Arthur Morgan!" I hiss, taking a step back. "Back home I am in charge of my own hospital wing. I have people who  _have_  to listen to my instructions otherwise people die. Where I come from men are not the owners of women and I most  _certainly_  do not take someone talking to me like a goddamn child when I am a grown-ass  _woman_ , capable of making my own fucking choices!"

I never knew how upset I truly was over the way Arthur treated me before until now. All of the boyfriends in the past knew that I was an independent woman. I was not something that could be walked across. I worked too damn hard in my life to get where I am to take anybody's shit. I've made that clear from the moment I came here. Arthur should  _know_  this. 

"All you ever talk about is how things are back home!" Arthur's voice rises to match my own volume, echoing in my ears. I don't flinch, standing my ground and keeping my clenched fists at my side so that I don't suddenly lash out at Arthur. I don't want to  _hurt_  him, I just want him to feel sorry for how he treated me earlier. I want him to know how he made me feel. "If you like how things are there so much, why don't you  _go back?"_

I suck in a sharp breath, all the frustration from the past few minutes welling up in hot tears behind my eyes. I feel my lower lip begin to tremble but I shove down the weakness. 

"Don't you fucking think I want to? Don't you think I miss my family and friends? I can't go back! I don't know  _how!"_   I bare my teeth at him, pointing a finger at the entrance to my tent.  _"Get. Out."_

Arthur finally seems to get the hint that I'm upset and that he's fucked up. He lowers his hands down to his side limply, watching me sadly. He slumps in on himself, letting out a deep breath. "Darlin'--"

_ "Out!"  _ My chest heaves as I struggle to remain composed. Arthur stares at me for a long moment, his own apologetic look hardening. He finally turns and pushes out of my tent, leaving me alone in the darkness of the night. 

I stand frozen in this spot for a few seconds, the past couple of minutes replaying through my head. My legs feel like they're going to give out beneath me so I slowly lower myself to my bedroll. 

This morning started out so nicely, how could it have turned to this? I know Abigail was probably right, that Arthur just didn't want me to get hurt, but he didn't have to handle the situation like  _that_. He could've just talked to me on an equal level instead of in a degrading fashion. It's very hard for me sometimes to remember just how differently the dynamics of men and women work here compared to my time period. Arthur probably isn't used to women sticking up for themselves, let alone a woman he's  _dating_  sticking up for themselves against  _him_. 

I bury my face in my hands as I remember the mean words I said to him. Why did he have to bring up my home? I miss it, more than I let on around the others. It's a weak point for me, and he took advantage of that. It was like poking a bear with a stick, it would end with nothing but something horrible. It's my own fault for not keeping calm and letting him know how I felt. For not just sharing simple words instead of resorting to yelling. As I begin to cry I realize I've done something awful. 

_ What have I _   _done?_


	25. Angelo Bronte, A Man of Honor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow am I LATE with this chapter. Guess who had another exam this week and didn't know about it until almost the last second? I love college. 
> 
> This chapter is a little bit of a filler in some ways? Not that happy with it but these events had to happen so that what comes next can occur. And lemme tell you guys: shit is about to GO. DOWN. Literally so excited to write these next few chapters !!
> 
> Question: what are your favorite kinds of things to read? Is it romance, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff? I'm curious as to what you guys like! I like a combination of the things I just listed, which is why there's going to be a lot of it in this story LMAO. Have a great week!

I immerse myself in my chores so intensely the next day that I get them done way earlier than usual. I don't even think it's noon by the time I'm done helping Karen and Pearson. Pearson asks if I want to wait around with him until people are finished with their food and then together the two of us could get an early start on dinner, but I just smile at him and shake my head. I know he's trying to keep me occupied with easy things to take my mind off of last night, and even though I deeply appreciate it, I'd rather be alone with my thoughts than anything else right now. I checked in on Abigail to see how she was doing, but she's in the same mindset as me right now. From how John can be found sulking around she must be taking out the brunt of her anger on him. Poor man.

Not that he doesn't deserve it, though.

Majority of the camp comes forward to get their respective dishes, save for one cowboy in particular. According to Mary-Beth and Tilly he rode out early this morning to do something for Dutch. So much has happened in the past few days that we have to do some serious reconnaissance in order to get back to the comfortable way of living we had a week ago. The whole thing with Rhodes and the Braithwaite's really set us back and I can see the edges of Dutch's confidence beginning to crack, try as he might to hide it. 

I'm not that upset that he isn't here right now. If he was I would either go running into his arms or slap him across the face. Until I can decide which urge is stronger it's best if we keep our distance. I don't know how he felt about everything that went down between us, but I do know that apparently he didn't so much as tip his hat in greeting to the other women this morning. From the pitying glances they've been throwing my way he must be in a real foul mood. They know Arthur would never hurt me, but they also know that if he's acting like this then he must be really upset.

The horses remain at the edge of camp, grazing happily at the little grass that's growing there. I haven't given Chewie or Bishop any special attention lately, so now would probably be a good time to be with them. The only problem is that I don't see Bishop. I've been making sure to keep her hitched to either one of the posts or Chewie. It's best if she gets used to the other horses and the loud noises of other living beings now rather than later. She seems to fit in rather well with the other animals, though I have noticed her ears seem to flatten against her head when The Count gets too close. I would laugh if there wasn't the possibility that it could turn into a legitimate problem.

I wander through the horses, looking around. Did she break off? Did she run away? My heart beats a little faster in my chest at the thought that she's gone. That horse saved my life. Arthur caught her for me. As mad as I may be at him, that's still an invaluable gift. I love Bishop, I don't want to lose her. 

"Miss Lily?" 

I turn my head to the side and find Kieran leading Bishop back towards a hitching post, a confused look on his face. I forgot that his duty here at camp has mainly been to take care of the animals, since the others don't trust him with weapons or not to poison their food. I personally like Kieran--he may be a little meek and timid, but he's a genuinely nice guy. He didn't want to be with the O'Driscoll's. It's a shame that majority of the members here don't trust him, even though he's been here longer than I have and has done more for these people. 

"Kieran?" I walk towards him, glancing at my horse. She looks cleaner and her hair is brushed. She seems content. "What are you doing?"

Kieran's eyes flicker over to Bishop as his face turns slightly red. "I, uh, I've been working with Bishop ever since you brought her here. I hope you don't mind, it's just that I used to help my pa on the farm when I was younger. I know how difficult it can be to break a horse, especially one like this girl here."

My eyebrows raise in surprise, though I smile at him. "Kieran, that's so sweet of you. I haven't had time to really be with her so I really appreciate that. Thank you, honestly."

My lack of anger at his actions seems to throw him for a loop because he just stares at me, mouth opening and closing as he searches for the words to say. "D-do you want to see what she can do?"

Someway, somehow, with those few words Kieran has been able to make me forget about the shitty things that happened in the past 24 hours and bring a little bit of joy back into my life. I nod my head eagerly and a smile of his own breaks out over his face. 

"Alright," he leads Bishop back the way he just came, gesturing for me to follow, "let's go then."

* * *

By the time we get back a few hours have passed. I'm thoroughly surprised as how much fun Kieran can be when he isn't constantly afraid of being shot in the face. He's a completely different person, still shy, but he cracks jokes and when I laughed at what he said his smile just got bigger. He's really a sweet guy. 

He took me down to a part of the lake that must have dried up a long time ago. There in the open space he was able to show me the few simple things that Bishop can now do. He told me that it took her a week alone to get used to the bridle, and he hasn't yet introduced a bit and reigns, but she doesn't pitch a fit when there's a blanket on her back anymore. While he held on to the lead he had her walk in a circle, urging her to speed up. She did for a little bit before kicking out her legs in obvious dislike of being told what to do. I simply laughed though he looked embarrassed. I know it isn't easy training a horse and that this is going to take a while, but Kieran is doing a very good job. He works with her for two hours if he can spare it. Considering the lack of time he's had with her, she's a lot better than if I had been the one working with her. 

"I'll pay you to keep training her," I tell him when we enter camp. He looks up at me in surprise. "You know what you're doing, more than I would. You're good with her. I'll pay you."

Kieran gets a hold of himself and shakes his head. "You don't need to pay me for that. I'd be happy to do it. It's nice just to have the chance to work with her."

I would fight him on it, but I get the feeling that for certain things Kieran is set in his ways. I purse my lips, thinking it over before finally nodding and grinning. I step forward, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He stiffens, not responding to my embrace. 

"Thank you, Kieran Duffy. It means a lot."

"N-no problem, Miss Lily."

I pull back, taking Bishop's lead from his hand and hitching her to the post alongside Chewie. "Just Lily is fine, Kieran."

He tips his hat, smiling shyly at me before walking over to his horse on the other side of Chewie. I slip both my animals a few sugar cubes as a treat, giving one last parting pat to Bishop's neck before facing camp. 

Stationed at the picnic table in front of Hosea's tent are the four horsemen of the apocalypse themselves: Dutch, Hosea, John and Arthur. They seem to be intently talking amongst themselves, no doubt thinking of ways to get Jack back from whoever it is that took him. Dutch and John are seated across from one another while Hosea is at the end, Arthur standing on Dutch's right side. He's not sitting like the rest of them, one foot perched on the chair in lieu of fully joining them at the table. 

He glances up midway through a sentence, staring straight at me. His mouth stops moving for a moment as we lock gazes. Though his face doesn't show anything, his eyes are as easy to read right now as they always have been. The turmoil stirring just below the surface, telling me exactly how he's feeling on the inside. Just like I am. 

"Hey, Dutch!" Lenny's voice cuts through the air, interrupting the moment. I look over to see the young boy escorting two well-dressed gentlemen over to the table where the four men are at, Bill and Charles close in case they're needed. "We got a problem."

The two men instantly set me on edge. They hold themselves high and proud, the second man the only one openly holding a rifle. Neither of them seem too concerned about the fact that Lenny currently has a gun aimed straight at their heads, ready to pull the trigger if they make any sudden moves. 

"Not a problem," the man in front argues, a charismatic edge to his voice, "just visitors...a solution." He glances around at the other members of the camp as they all come out from their respective places to see what all the commotion is about. "Good day fine people." He reaches the table, glancing down at Dutch who hasn't looked up from the table since Lenny announced their arrival. "Mr. Van Der Linde. Mr. Matthews, I presume?"

Hosea frowns at the greeting, standing from his seat to move behind Dutch. The other man pays him no mind and continues to stroll along leisurely, reveling in the attention he's getting. 

When John also stands and places his hand on the gun on his hip, the man pauses. He raises a brow, looking him up and down. "Who are you you?"

"Rip Van Winkle," John sneers, fingers tensing on the leather belt. 

This earns him a snort, and the man just shakes his head. "Huh. Good day, sir. My name is Agent Milton, Pinkerton Detective Agency. This here is Agent Ross."

_Pinkertons? Is that what they call police officers?_

Arthur steps forward, eyes narrowed. This 'Agent Milton' guy seems to perk up, something resembling a grin breaking out across his face. 

"Arthur Morgan--nice to see you again." 

Dutch finally looks up, glaring straight ahead. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?"

That finally wipes the grin off of Agent Milton's face. "I don't know if you're aware, but this is a  _civilized_ land now. We didn't kill all them savages only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity and basic decency was outmoded or not yet invented. This thing? It's  _done_."

With each word that pours from Milton's mouth I can feel myself getting angrier and angrier. Not only did he use the deragatory term of 'savages' but he also said that none of the people in this camp have any dignity or human decency. I know these people. I've lived with them long enough to know that they possess more dignity and decency than these two agents have in their whole bodies. Micah being the exception, of course. 

Kieran comes up alongside me, an appreciated comfort. I take a half a step closer to him, my arm brushing alongside his own. The detectives don't notice this but Arthur sure does, telling by the way his eyes flicker between the two of us for a moment. 

Dutch slowly stands up, turning to face the agents for the first time. "This place...there ain't no such thing as civilized. It's man so in love with greed he has forgotten himself and found only appetites."

"And as a consequence that lets you take what you please, kill whom you please and hang the rest of us? Who made you the  _messiah_ to these lost souls you've led so horribly astray?"

"I'm nothin' but a seeker, Mr. Milton."

"You ain't much of anythin' more than a killer, Mr. Van Der Linde."

Back home I followed the law. I never even thought of talking back to someone in a government position, let alone full on  _threatening_ one, but after Agent Milton says those words to Dutch I know that I'm more than willing to get locked up if that means this son of a bitch will  _shut the fuck up_. This is  _my family_ that he's insulting.

Kieran's hand reaching forward and grabbing hold of my arm is the only thing that stops me from marching over there and punching him in his righteous mouth. The movement doesn't go unnoticed because suddenly the Agent's attention is fixed on me, a perplexed look on his face. 

"I know most of the faces here, but  _you?_ You're definitely new." At the same time he steps forward Kieran moves, stepping in front of me and holding his chin up. I know he's trying to be brave for my sake and all, but I can see his hands shaking by his side. He's terrified. 

Charles, John, Lenny and Arthur move as one to block off his path so that he can't get any closer. Agent Milton lets out a fake laugh, holding his hands up as a sign of surrender. 

"I just wanted to share a few words, but I get the hint." He looks over their shoulders, locking eyes with me. "Take it as a good sign that I don't know who you are. Get away from all these wretched people while you still can, Miss--" he pauses, tilting his head to the side. "I didn't catch your name?"

Arthur pulls out a pistol, cocking it. "And you ain't gonna."

That seems to finally get Agent Milton to back off as Agent Ross lowers his gun from his shoulder at the blatant threat. 

"The point of this whole thing is that I came to make a deal," Agent Milton turns back to Dutch, "it's time. You come with me, and I will give the rest of you three days to run off, disappear, and go live like human beings someplace else."

Something changes in Dutch. He straightens his spine, the seriousness on his face fading away to one of amusement. "You came for  _me_? Risked life and limb in this den of lowlifes and murderers so that they might live and love? Ain't that  _fine_." As Dutch chuckles, I can see similar looks of mirth growing on their own faces. 

Agent Milton doesn't look like he quite understands the joke. "I don't wanna kill all these folk, Dutch, just you."

Dutch raises his hand and begins to walk forward towards Milton. "In that case, it would be my  _honor_   to join you. Excuse me, friends."

 _No!_   _Dutch can't be serious right now, is he?_

"I have an appointment to keep with--" Dutch doesn't even get to finish his sentence. He's interrupted by the sounds of everyone pulling out whatever weapons they have on them--pistols, shotguns, rifles. They're all pointed at the two men who dared to trespass on our land. Even Kieran pulls out a gun. I didn't know he even  _had_ a weapon. I'm the only one who doesn't have anything. Again.

"I think your new friend should leave now, Dutch." Miss Grimshaw says gravely, stepping forward with a shotgun held tightly in her hands. 

Agent Milton's face twists. "You're makin' a big mistake. All of you." Nobody bats an eyelash at his words. 

Dutch laughs again. "Yeah. Dreadful. We have got something, something to live and die for. How awful for us, Mr. Milton." The humor slips off his face and he steps close to the shorter man, getting right up in his personal space.  _"Stop following us._ We'll be gone soon."

Agent Milton sighs, as though he's genuinely upset or surprised by this answer. "I'm afraid I can't. When I return I'll be with fifty men. All of you will die. Run away from this place, you fools. Run!"

Lenny moves forward, grabbing the agent's arm and tugging on it. "C'mon."

Agent Milton shakes him off with a look that screams disgust. "Get your  _damn_ hands off me, boy." 

The two agents turn and begin to leave, with Agent Milton looking at me one last time and tipping his hat. The look makes me shiver with disgust, and I find that I'm once more thankful for Kieran standing in front of me. 

"What now?" Arthur mumbles. 

"We get outta here, and quick. Any ideas?"

Arthur glances at me briefly before nodding his head at Dutch. "I know a big old house, hidden in the swamps outside Saint Denis. I'm sure they'll find us eventually but it should buy us a few days."

"A few days is all we need."

"It's a spot out by Shady Belle. Lenny and I got into that dispute with the previous occupiers. Place is well hidden."

Dutch looks at John. "You and Arthur ride out and make sure that place is fully deserted. Lenny, you follow those fools out of here and make sure that they leave." Lenny nods and moves after the two agents. John and Arthur share a look before beginning to head over to where their horses are hitched. "John, we'll get Jack back and we'll get packin'. I promise you that."

Arthur rides out after John without a look back. I ignore the stinging sensation it leaves me and walk towards my tent to pack it up as Dutch announces to everyone that we need to start getting our things together. Miss Grimshaw doesn't hesitate in designating people on what they should do so that we can move as quickly and efficiently as possible. It reminds me of how I would act when I took control of my own workplace. It was a good feeling. 

And now with the fight that Arthur and I had, the Pinkertons showing up, Dutch trying his best to hide how worried he is but unable to stop all of it, I don't know how I feel. Worried? Angry? Upset? Scared? It's too hard to put one name to the emotions brewing inside of me right now. 

* * *

Even though we have a lot of stuff, it takes a surprisingly short amount of time to get everything packed up and ready to go. Miss Grimshaw really knows how to move quickly, and for that I'll be forever grateful. My things were packed away in the medicinal wagon and after Lenny started driving I followed behind him on Chewie, Bishop tethered to the saddle. She isn't fazed that much and follows along obediently, probably happy about the fact that she gets to move around. I hope this Shady Belle will have a nice spot like Clemens Point does for Kieran to work with her. 

After riding along for a few hours we finally arrive at Shady Belle. I have to give it to Arthur--this place is  _beautiful_. With two floors, it's a little dilapidated and there's wildlife growing up along the walls, but that gives it character. It's gorgeous. 

I dismount from Chewie, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath my feet. There wasn't any gravel at Clemens Point, and I have to say I missed the sound a little bit. There's a swamp almost fully surrounding the house, bringing with it smells and sounds of bugs and animals that I wouldn't be able to find in Pennsylvania. I've always wanted to travel, so I guess this is a nice slice of that life. 

"Do you want me to help you bring your things up to Arthur's room? He got one of the bedrooms on the floor of the house. It's real nice." Tilly asks, carrying a bag of my clothing in her hand. 

Over at Hosea's wagon, Arthur had been helping him to unload his own belongings. He pauses when Tilly asks me this question, close enough that he can hear what we're saying. He makes eye contact with me, waiting for my answer. I can't tell what he's thinking though. Does he want me to room with him? Does he not want to be anywhere near me? I can't tell. He isn't giving me any signals, and to be completely honest I don't know myself if I want to do it. 

"No," I say quietly, the first one to look away from his piercing blue eyes, "I'll set up my tent out here. I'll be fine."

She makes a face but doesn't argue with me. Shortly after I hear Dutch and Arthur leave the campsite, heading off towards what I'm guessing is Saint Denis. It's fine. I have more than enough to occupy myself with now. I'll be fine.

Though right now I feel anything but fine. 

* * *

Arthur doesn't come back for two days. Dutch came back briefly that same night to get some of the men together just to head back into Saint Denis. I'm guessing they got a lead on the man who took Jack, and telling by the way Abigail nearly shoved John onto his horse to follow Dutch I'm going to say it was a  _good_ lead. 

In that time we've set everything up for camp, from the wagons to the tents. Hosea helped me with mine once more, this time putting it up off to the right of the house. I'm close to Pearson which is fine with me, considering it was either the cook's snoring or listening to Micah and Bill argue with one another all night. I'm still surprised that those two still share a tent instead of just getting their own. Back in my time I would've thought that there might have been something more going on  between the two of them, but here, now? Definitely not. 

On the night of the second day we're all gathered around the campfire, everyone talking quietly amongst themselves as we wait for the men to get back. Not many are gone, just Dutch, John, Arthur. Some of the others decided to go around the property, find some vantage points if things go to shit and to also get away from the rest of us. As each day passes that Jack is gone Abigail has become more and more frantic. She tries to hide it, she tries to put on a brave face, but I can see through it. I can tell that she's torn up inside and her walls that she's put up are slowly being chipped away. John, bless him, has been trying to be there for her. More than he has in the past. But she won't take his comfort, she just wants him to get her son back. I can't say that I blame her. To have one's child ripped away is a pain that's worse than death.

"Here, you'll catch cold if you don't bundle up more at night," Mary-Beth says quietly, walking over and wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. I give her a quiet thanks in return and adjust the blanket so that it's around both myself and Abigail now. The two of us are seated on the log by the fire, just staring at the flames as we digest the bland stew that Pearson made. We've tried to strike up a conversation but with the bleak mood nothing has stuck. 

"I'm sure they're fine," I whisper, trying to get my friend's attention. Her brown eyes flicker to me briefly before looking straight ahead once more. She doesn't say anything but she moves over so that she's leaning into my side. I let her do this, knowing that this is her way of seeking comfort from someone right now. 

"Hey!" Bill suddenly yells. "They're back! I think I see Jack!"

Abigail sits up faster than I can blink. She throws the blanket off the two of us, standing to her feet and practically running to the front of Shady Belle. Tilly and I follow after her, moving quickly to see if it's true. Is Jack really back? Did they actually get him?

"Abigail!" Dutch calls, waving his hand from where he's perched on The Count. "Abigail! We got you your son, everything..."

"We got him!" John yells, and I feel my breath catch at the joy in his voice. He's happy he got his son, it's clear. 

"Mama!" Jack's tiny voice floats around the camp, and I let out a breath I never realized I was holding. Something similar to a sob crawls up my throat and nearly escapes, but I push it down. I'm so glad that Jack is  _back_ and  _safe_ , but this is Abigail's moment. I won't ruin it for her. 

I watch as she runs over, laughing, actually  _laughing_ as she bends down and embraces her son. He's all giggles, smiling at her and going on about how much fun he had at Mr. Bronte's. He mentions Italian food, about how he's never had spaghetti before. Someone makes a comment that they've never had it either. 

"We got him back."

I look over my shoulder to find Arthur standing just a few feet behind me. He isn't looking at me, instead choosing to watch the reunion that the tiny family is having. He's relieved to have Jack back, I can tell, but he seems tired. The bags under his eyes tells me that he hasn't slept in a while, maybe not since we arrived at Shady Belle. 

I fold my arms over my chest. I nod my head, not exactly trusting myself to speak right now. 

"Ran into a fella named Bronte--he's some big shot in Saint Denis. I don't trust him."

I can't help but scoff. "You said that to me once."

Arthur finally looks at me, weighing my reaction. "You were different."

I hum, holding my arms closer to my sides. The air is colder here than it was at Clemens Point, probably thanks to the swamp. It'll get hot and sticky during the day but right now it feels like late fall. 

Arthur moves away for a second. I feel his body behind mine as he places the blanket that Mary-Beth brought me earlier around my shoulders, his hands lingering there for a moment. I look back at him, noticing that we're barely five inches away from one another at this point. 

"Thank you," I murmur, tugging at the sides and pulling it tight around me. 

"Miss Lily!"

Our moment is broken by little Jack running away from his mother's grasp and over to us. I bend down immediately and wrap him up tightly in my arms, holding him close to me. 

"Jack!" I smile and laugh, overjoyed at the fact that he's really here. I didn't want to show any outward emotion just in case it made Abigail feel even worse, but I can't deny the fact that I was  _terrified_ for this child's life. During my time here he has managed to worm his way inside my heart, along with the others in this camp. All of them matter (most of them anyway) and I don't know what I would do if something happened to one of them. They're my family. 

They're my  _family_. 

"Oh, I missed you." I say to him, and he giggles in my arms. I hold him there for a few more moments before releasing him back to his mother. She's all smiles and I'm happy to find that gleam is back in her eye. 

"I think we all deserve a break after this," Dutch moseys on over to us, hands planted on his hips. Surprisingly, Molly is nowhere to be found. Considering that Dutch was gone for quite a while I'm shocked that she isn't hanging off his arm. 

"Thank you, Dutch." I tell him, giving him a sincere smile. His face softens and he tips his hat in response. 

"I would do anything for this family, Miss Edwards."

I shake my head but smile at him anyway. I guess his habit of addressing me like that will never go away. 

"Are any of you hurt?" I ask him, noticing the lack of dirt on Dutch's clothing. He shakes his head in response. 

"Just in need of a good night's rest, Doc."

I smile and gesture to the house. "Then go get some sleep. I know Miss O'Shea was missing you."

Dutch winks at me and heads towards the house, clapping John on the back as he passes him. 

"You too, Arthur." I say more quietly, facing him. He stares at me and I can see that he wants to say something. But he doesn't. He holds it in, clenching his jaw and nodding. 

He turns on his boots and moves to go into the house.. 

"Arthur?" I say at the last second, causing the man to pause in his tracks. He looks at me over his shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay. And that you got Jack."

He looks to the ground a second, the corner of his mouth briefly turning up. He sucks in a breath, glancing up at the stars above our heads. "Me too."


	26. No, No and Thrice, No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! It's that time of the semester--SPRING BREAK! That means more time for me to write for you guys! Thank you sooooooo much for all of the nice comments and messages the past few weeks. You guys don't just make my day; you make my LIFE! Hopefully this chapter makes up for the lack of posting and all the angst. 
> 
> I recently watched the X-Men movies (bc I'm lame and have never seen them before) and I'm in love with Huge Jackedman. Wolverine is so dang hottttt. I'm thinking of writing a story for him because there's a serious lack??? That needs fixed immediately. Let me know if you'd be interested!
> 
> Before you get worried; there's still a lot left to Arthur and Lily's story. I'm trying to do my own thing and follow the game at the same time, and we're just barely starting chapter 4. This story is already over 100k words long, so I'm guessing by the time I'm done it will be at least double, if not triple, that amount. I write novels, not one-shots LMAO
> 
> Another BEAUTIFUL fan art was made and I AM IN LOVE! It's such a cute picture of Lily and Arthur it makes my heart melt, so please go check it out! Thank you soooo much to reddead-unhinged on tumblr for drawing this! <33333333333 Here's a link below, and I hope you guys have a great week!
> 
> https://reddead-unhinged.tumblr.com/post/183062272842/heres-more-fan-art-for-meobsessions-if-you

Tilly and I are out early the next morning. She wanted to try to find some of the wild fruits that grow around Shady Belle and so I agreed to help her, even though I could already tell that nothing more than weeds grow around this swamp. 

"Look, there are some berries!" Tilly grabs my arm excitedly before moving over to a throng of bushes. I follow after her quickly, inspecting the supposed fruit. I grab her wrist before she can lift the food to her mouth. 

"Those don't look good, Tilly. I wouldn't trust them."

Tilly pauses, peering down at them. She rolls them around for a few moments before nodding her head at me. "You're right. Let's bundle them up and bring them back to Pearson in case they are bad." She picks a few more handfuls and stuffs them inside a small basket that she brought along. 

"So, Lily," Tilly starts as we walk further down the dirt path leading away from our camp, "what's goin' on between you 'n Arthur? We've all noticed how the two of yous ain't talkin'."

I sigh, rubbing the side of my arm as the chill of the early morning causes goose bumps to rise on my exposed flesh. Maybe my normal pants and a thin button up shirt weren't the smartest clothing decisions this morning. 

"We...had a bit of a fight."

"A fight?" She raises a brow, stopping and facing me. "Then go fix it already."

"It's not that simple," I walk on ahead, hearing her move quickly to catch up with me, "I want to fix things. I miss him, a lot." With those words I realize just how much I actually  _do_  miss my cowboy. His comforting presence, how he can make me smile at any minute, how he can make me  _feel_  things I've never felt for anyone else ever before. 

"Then what's stopping you?"

I can't help but let out a low noise of frustration. "There's so many things I need to figure out. In order to fix  _us_  I need to solve my own problems."

"Lily," Tilly says quietly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, "let him  _help_  you. Arthur is smarter than any of us make him out to be. We may say he's dumber than a box of rocks, but we ain't serious. Sometimes you can't do everythin' on your own."

"You know what...you're right, Tilly." I look up at her, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I'll talk to him. I know that at least  _I've_  been missing him--"

Tilly scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Honey, that man has turned into a puppy that's been kicked since you stopped talking to him. If you can't see that then you need some glasses."

The two of us laugh softly at that. She loops her arm through my own before leading the two of us farther down the trail. 

Tilly suddenly stops, the laughter getting stuck in her throat. I look at her in confusion, wondering what caused the sudden change in her mood. She's staring straight ahead, and when I turn my head I see two men on horses watching us. The sight of shotguns held tightly in their hands isn't what turns my blood to ice, it's the sinister smiles on their faces. 

"Tilly Jackson," one man calls, and the grip she has on my arm tightens to the point where I don't think any blood flow is getting through to the rest of the appendage. "We been lookin' for you for a  _long_  time. You owe us."

"Lily, run." Tilly whispers harshly as she releases my arm. "Run back to camp. Get Miss Grimshaw."

I look at her sharply. "I'm not  _leaving_  you!"

"Run!" She yells this time, accentuating her words with a push on my shoulders back towards camp. I stumble over my feet, nearly falling down to the ground in the process.

"Get her!" One of the men shouts, and the other kicks his horse so that it starts running in our direction. 

I decide to take Tilly's advice and start to run. I glance over my shoulder briefly to find her behind me a few feet, also running away from the two mysterious men. The man who gave the order has joined in on the chase, quickly catching up to the two of us. 

Tilly suddenly lets out a scream and I look back as the man who originally began chasing us rides past and scoops her up onto the saddle with him. She fights him, managing to claw at his face before he brings he gets a good punch in, effectively knocking her out. I pick up my pace when I see that even though they now have Tilly the other man hasn't stopped in his chase after me. Why the hell is he coming after me?! Who are these guys!

"Leave her!" The man tightly holding onto Tilly yells at the other man as he thunders past on his horse. "We got Miss Jackson."

"I ain't leavin' no witnesses!" The other man yells, sliding his gun into the holster of his saddle and pulling out his lasso. 

_Oh, Jesus_.

I round the corner, knowing that I'm getting close to Shady Belle. Tilly and I left early so there weren't that many people awake, but there were a few people milling about. 

"Miss Grimshaw!" I shout, hoping that  _someone_  can hear me. "Swanson!  _Arthur!"_

Just off in the distance I think I see her, Miss Grimshaw. She stands up straight from where she was bent over a heavy bucket of something. She faces me with confusion, planting her hands on her hips. 

"Help! They have Tilly! They--"

There's a sharp whistling sound that flies by my ear and then my leg is suddenly pulled out from under me. I hit the ground with full force on my stomach, all the air leaving my lungs as dirt clouds up in front of my eyes. I cough, ignoring the stones that get shoved in the soft flesh of my palm as I try to climb back to my feet. I glance back and see the man on the horse successfully lassoed my foot, the rope tight around my ankle. He brings his horse to a halt and sneers down at me. 

"Let's go for a  _ride_ , why don't we?"

I don't have time to ponder what he means by that before he's throwing the other end of the lasso around the horn of the saddle and turning his horse back to the way we came from, kicking it sharply in the ribs before they take off. 

One second I'm lying prone on the dirt and the next I'm being dragged by my ankle at a speed too fast for me to catch my breath. My foot feels like it's going to disconnect from my body as the lasso tightens around my skin. The hard rocks beneath me scrape my body, leaving what I'm sure are many tiny cuts and bruises. I scrabble along, trying to get a hold on something so that I can stop myself. I should know better, though. There's no way little old me can stop a  _horse_. 

_Why don't I have a gun? Or a knife? Or--_

A knife! I do have one! Tilly and I both brought one in case we needed them for the food we were looking for. I twist over onto my back and reach into my pocket, pulling out my knife. Now  _this_  is going to take a lot of core strength. I really need to do more sit ups. 

I maneuver my body around like a snake, trying to twist so that I can reach my leg with the knife. More hard objects move swiftly beneath me, bringing cries of pain out of my mouth before I can stop them. God, everything  _hurts._

I finally manage to knick the rope with my blade and with all the strenuous tugging on it there's only a few more seconds before it snaps. I go rolling across the ground as the horse continues on, slowly but surely coming to a stop. 

I take in a shaky breath, feeling my body ache as I try to push myself up once more. 

_I did it. I actually did it! Now if I can just get back to camp then we can get some help and get Til--_

"You's a lot more work than I thought." A hand grabs a fistful of my hair and  _tugs_ , yanking me up to my feet. I let out a scream, fumbling to try to relieve the pressure that the unrelenting grip has on me. I turn to face the man who helped get Tilly. His horse is a few feet away, standing there patiently while his owner deals with me. 

He's tall, about Dutch's height, with skin darker than the night. He looks similar to the other man, and I'm guessing they must be brothers of some sort. His nose is crooked and his eyes are bloodshot. Either he's drunk or he's very sick. 

I remember the knife in my hand and bring it up to shove in his stomach when he suddenly grabs my wrist, twisting it until I drop my only weapon with a shout. He doesn't hesitate in bringing his other hand up and hitting me straight in the face with a hard fist. Obviously this man has no qualms about hitting a woman. Sick bastard. 

The hit lands directly on my nose, a sick crunching noise echoing through my head as my eyes tear up. I fall onto my ass on the ground and I'm able to look up at him blearily for one more second before I see a flash of his gun being brought down on the side of my head. Then everything fades to black. 

* * *

 

_"Lily!"_

Aching. Pounding.  _Hurting_.

"Lily!"

I pry my eyes open, wincing at the pain such a simple action brings. 

"Oh, thank Jesus. I was afraid they'd killed you."

My vision clears a little bit until I'm finally able to make out shapes, and then those shapes eventually turn into objects. I'm sitting up, facing a wall where there's a simple dresser and chest. I turn my head to the side a little and see Tilly sitting a few feet from me, her eyes fixed on my form. There's concern in her eyes and she looks like she's close to crying. Her normally clear and beautiful skin is now dirty and there are black and blue marks beneath her eyes. 

I try to move over to her but my arms are tied behind me back and what feels like around a bed post. A bed. Are we in a bedroom? I look over my shoulder to see that we  _are_  in fact tied to bedposts while we sit on the ground, both of us at one corner. The angle in which I'm tied tugs painfully on my shoulders and I can't help but groan at the aches I can feel all throughout my body. 

"Where are we?" I ask slowly, blinking rapidly and looking around.

"We're at Radley's House." She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, an angry expression crawling across her face. "I should've known they would find me at Shady Belle. I should've brought a gun with me or somethin' and we wouldn't be in this mess."

I shake my head, confused. "Who's house? Who are they?"

She opens her eyes and gives me a look of sympathy. "The Foremans. One of 'em found me in Valentine. I don't know how they found me. I'm so sorry that I got you tangled up in this mess."

"Tilly, this isn't your fault. What do they even want with you."

She clenches her jaw and looks forward for a moment. "They're who I used to run with, a real long time ago. I killed one of 'em in self defense, I swear. They don't see it that way." She looks me up and down and grimaces. "Lily, you're  _covered_  in blood."

I look down slowly, my eyes blurring once more as I take in all the blood that is on me. There's splatters here and there on my shirt, and if I move my face in a certain way I can feel where it must have dried on my face. "I think they broke my nose. That'll cause a lot of blood."

"You're also bleedin' from the side of your head."

I think back to when I was grabbed. "I think he hit me with his gun."

She growls, tugging furiously on her binds. "I'll kill those sons of bitches!"

"You won't be doin' nothin' much, Miss Jackson." 

The door to the bedroom is kicked open. I can't see the entrance since I'm facing the back wall, but by the sound of jingling spurs I'm guessing one of the Foreman brothers came in.

"Listen here, you son of a--" Tilly is suddenly cut off by a loud slap. That wakes me up, and I struggle furiously with the rope around my arms and legs to try to get free. I twist my head as far as possible to see the man that walked in bent down on one knee, grasping Tilly's chin tightly in his hand. It's the same man that grabbed me from Shady Belle.

"Now that ain't no way for a lady to talk."

"If you lay  _one more_  goddamned hand on her, I'll kill you with my own two hands." I seethe, practically foaming at the mouth. People don't just hurt my friends, my  _family_ , and get away with it. 

The man smirks at me like he doesn't think of me as much of a threat. "Andrew, why don't you get somethin' to shut these pretty ladies up? I'm tired of hearin' 'em bitch 'n moan."

Another man enters the room and walks over to Tilly. I hear some rustling and then he's walking over to me, bending down in front of me like the other man did to Tilly. He grabs my chin and goes to pull my face forward but I move at the last second and sink my teeth into his hand, biting down  _hard_. He let's out a noise of pain and falls back away from me, clutching his hand to his chest. He hisses and in the next second he's backhanding me across the face. My head jerks to the side as I see stars, the pain from that blow melding in with the others I received earlier. I'm much more compliant this time when he pushes my head forward roughly and begins to tie a gag around my mouth. 

"I still don't get why you had to grab this one, Anthony." Andrew says as he finishes with me and stands to his feet. The cloth across my mouth is dirty and is tied so tightly behind my head that I can't move my jaw to get any words out.

"You ain't heard?" Anthony starts as he and Andrew head over to the door to the bedroom. "She's got a high price on her head from that O'Driscoll. Shoot, it'd be hard  _not_  to recognize her with how he's been goin' around with her picture. Whatever he wants with her must be worth the price on her head. So I say that we..." Anthony continues to talk as he and Andrew walk out the door, shutting it behind them. 

Colm? Colm O'Driscoll? I haven't heard anything about  _him_  in so long that I forgot he even wanted me in the first place. What the fuck do these guys know about it? Tilly must have the same thoughts as me because she looks at me with wide eyes, uncertain as to what  _that_  whole thing was about. They have my  _picture?!_  When did they get that!

Tilly tries to say something, but it just comes out all muffled. My head is spinning with all the information I just got and with how I've been getting knocked around in the past 24 hours. How long have we been gone? Did Miss Grimshaw see what happened? Does anyone even know that we're  _gone_?

* * *

 

I don't know how long we sit there. An hour? Two hours? Judging from the shadows that come in through the window I can tell that the sun hasn't moved that much so it hasn't been too long, but it still is enough time for my body to get stiff from sitting there and for my head to finally stop bleeding. When a head wound bleeds for too long it's concerning, so I'm glad that I'm coherent enough to be able to tell that I most likely don't have a concussion. 

Thinking of medical examinations keeps me grounded. It helps me to not slip into a panic of not knowing what's to come, of what's going to happen to Tilly and I the longer we stay here. My stomach growls and I think of how long its been since I've had anything to eat, let alone drink. I'm so thirsty, and having this dry cloth across my face isn't helping me. I bet Tilly feels the same way that I do. 

After yet another period of silence I find myself dozing off. It's quiet in the house, the only sound is the occasional muffled thumping from boots on hard wood outside our door. I'm tired and I think that some rest will do me good. 

Then the door to the bedroom opens and closes almost silently, except for the creaking of the hinges. Tilly starts moving around, making noises and trying to fight back. I wake up and look over to see Andrew in the room, smiling maliciously down at Tilly. She shakes her head and tries to move away but he ignores her and crouches down by her side. 

_Oh, God. No._

I start to scream around my gag, trying to move to her side quickly. Andrew looks up and snarls at me but doesn't stop. He goes to untie her hands when suddenly there's a shot that goes off in the kitchen. The three of us pause, unsure what caused that.

_"Lily!"_

_I know that voice_...

"What the hell's goin' on?" Andrew shouts.

In that moment of hesitation the bedroom door is kicked open and a gun is fired once more, this time directly into Andrew's chest. I collapse onto my side instantly, trying to hide under the bed so that I don't get hit by a stray bullet. I can't see who shot him but I can watch as his dead body falls on top of the bed, one hand limply clutching the area where he was shot.

Tilly tries to speak once more. The person who shot Andrew moves to her side quickly and unties her, yanking her hands free and pulling her to her feet. 

"It's okay, Miss Tilly." My heart speeds up as Arthur's voice echoes around the room.  _Arthur? He's here?_ "Now, let's get Miss Lily and get you ladies outta here." 

I wiggle back into my sitting position, trying to look over my shoulder at him.  _"Arthur!"_  I call, but through my gag it comes out more as 'mrthhm'. 

"I'm fine, get Lily and we'll go." Tilly says before leaving the room. 

There's a flurry of steps and then I'm suddenly looking up, nearly to the ceiling, to get a glimpse of Arthur's face. He bends down, cupping my face gently in one of his hands as he looks me over with his eyes, taking in every small cut and bruise. The relief I feel at the fact that he's actually  _here_  nearly makes me pass out. I fall forward into his body, feeling his arms move around me to hold me up. 

He sucks in a breath, moving quickly to free my hands. "Oh, Darlin'." He speaks quietly, working fast as he finishes with my hands and moves onto my ankles, freeing them as well. Those two words are filled with so much pain that it makes my chest tighten. Once my legs are free he reaches up and tugs on my gag, pulling it down so that it rests around my neck while my mouth is free. I close my eyes, slumping forward into his hold once more and letting him just hold me. 

Oh, how I've missed him. The feeling that I'm experiencing right now, with his arms around me and his smell of gun smoke and woods that I've come to enjoy so much brings me more comfort than anything else possibly could. 

"You had me real worried there, Lily." He laughs shakily, moving his arms under mine and helping me to stand up to my feet. I wrap my arms around his back, pressing the side of my face to his chest and listening to his heart beat rapidly beneath my ear. 

"I was so scared," I say quietly, closing my eyes as tears threaten to fall. "I was afraid that they were going to kill us. That nobody would find us. That I...you wouldn't know...we--"

"What?" Arthur asks quietly, tightening his grip. 

"Arthur!" Miss Grimshaw yells from outside. I sniffle, knowing that what I was about to tell him was something serious that should be reserved for a special moment. Right now, where we're at? I can do better. 

Arthur sighs and gently helps me outside the house, one of my arms over his shoulder while he has one of his own wrapped around my waist. Tilly is standing on the tiny porch with a shotgun in her hands. There are more men outside the house, quickly mounting their horses and riding off. I break away from Arthur as Miss Grimshaw waves for him to follow her. Apparently Anthony Foreman is trying to get away--that isn't going to fly here.

"Anyone approaches, shoot 'em!" Miss Grimshaw orders as Arthur helps her up onto a horse. 

Arthur looks back at me uncertainly, and I can tell that he doesn't want to leave me. I nod at him, leaning on the banister beside Tilly and wrapping an arm around my waist. "Go get the motherfucker!"

Arthur's face hardens and he nods, mounting the horse and taking off after the three men who are trying their best to get away from the man and woman who already killed two of their men. Once they're out of sight I sit back down on the ground, too weak and in too much pain to be able to stand on my own right now. 

"Everything's okay now, Lily. Let's get you in the house, don't sit out here."

Tilly helps me into the house, setting me down on a chair in the kitchen. A few feet away lies the body of one of the Foreman brothers, and I try not to think about it too much so I don't vomit. I lean forward on the table, resting my head on my arms and closing my eyes. I know that Tilly will shoot anyone who dares to come near, so I feel safe enough to rest now. Safer than I did when I tried to rest earlier. 

* * *

 

Some time later I feel a hand brushing along the top of my head, pushing the stray hairs away from my face. It's a soothing gesture that seems to want to lull me into a deeper sleep. I sigh, moving closer to the hand. It moves away and the next thing I feel are two arms slipping beneath me, one under my legs and the other behind my back. I blink my eyes open to find Arthur picking me up from where I must have fallen asleep in the chair. His arms are strong beneath me, not wavering in the slightest as he carries me out of the house and down the steps to where the wagon that he and Miss Grimshaw must have ridden in on is resting. Tilly and Miss Grimshaw are already on the bench, ready to head back to Shady Belle. 

I wake up a little more, letting Arthur know he can put me down. He refuses, instead pulling me closer to his chest. 

"Arthur, I can walk."

"I ain't been able to touch you in a while--what makes you think I'm lettin' go now?"

My face heats at the endearing comment. I don't argue with him, choosing to enjoy being carried by a strong and good looking man. He sets me down on the edge of the planks of wood and I scoot backwards to the head of the wagon while he jumps up to sit beside me. As Miss Grimshaw orders the horses to begin riding away I feel him wrap his arm around me, pulling me close into his side. I snuggle into him, resting my head on his chest and feeling him set his chin on top of me. Telling by the tension in his body I can tell that Arthur was worried. He's trying to relax but there's something inside of him that won't let go. 

Out of the four of us, nobody says a word the whole way back to camp. None of us have to say anything. We all know how lucky we are.

When we finally get back to camp a few people greet us. Abigail, Mary-Beth, and Karen all come over to fuss over Tilly and I. Even Sadie stops by to make sure that we're okay. Jack hides behind his mother's skirts as he stares at Tilly and I until Abigail finally has to lead him away to Hosea so he can practice his reading. 

Tilly says she's going to take a bath, and that sounds like a wonderful idea to me so I decide to take one too. 

"I'll help ya," Arthur says once the other women have left and he follows me back to my tent where I get some fresh clothing. I look back at him over my shoulder but he's serious. 

"Arthur, I don't need--"

"You're  _hurt_ , Lily. I'm gonna help you."

I take a deep breath, picking out a new shirt and pants that hopefully won't rub on my skin too harshly. "You don't--"

"--now, dammit, if I want to help--"

"--I don't want you to see me like this!" 

My outburst makes Arthur stop talking. He shuts his mouth, staring at me intently. His hat is tipped low on his head so the sun casts a low shadow over his facial features, giving him a dark look. 

"I already know it's not going to be pretty, okay? I..they, well, I got dragged, alright? That Anthony guy tied me to his horse and dragged me. I don't look too good right now."

Arthur reaches up slowly and takes his hat off, stepping farther into my tent. A crease appears between his brows as he frowns at me, a hidden anger brewing just beneath the surface as I tell him what Anthony Foreman did to me. "You think I care about how ya look?"

I shake my head, turning back to my things. "It's not just that. I-I'm weak, alright? I'm not as strong as the others. Tilly basically got the same treatment that I did and she's  _fine_. Me? I feel like my legs are going to cave at any second."

"Then why aren't you sittin' down?!"

I whirl back around to face him, my face red from anger. "Because I'm tired of being weak! I'm worse than Jack!"

Before I can say anything else Arthur is stepping forward, winding his arms around me and tipping me backwards so that he can kiss me. I grab handfuls of his shirt, clinging to them because it's the only thing I can reach at the moment. His mouth on mine is desperate, hungry,  _worried_. He was afraid out there. I know he  _told_  me he was afraid, but it's a whole other thing to actually feel it. I hate that I make him, my big and strong cowboy, feel afraid. 

"You, Lily Edwards," he finally breathes when he pulls back, "are the strongest person I know. I shouldn't even have to tell you that, you should just  _know_. Strength ain't always a physical thing. And yours is the best. It's one of the many things I love about you."

I stop breathing. I stare up at him, seeing the desperation and adoration that shines brightly in his eyes. He's serious. 

"You love about me?"

His face slowly softens, a small smile stretching across his face. "I love you, Lily Edwards."

This time it's definitely tears that I feel falling down my face. Here I was, about to tell him the same thing back at that damn house. But he said it first. The damn son of a bitch beat me to it. 

I release his shirt and cup his face, holding him still. "Oh, Arthur, I love you more than you can imagine."

He inhales sharply, his smile morphing into a full-blown grin. "You said to me once that I was loved more than I could imagine. Never figured it woulda been by you."

I smile back, ignoring the pain it brings to my face. "I could've." And with that I lean forward and connect the two of us once more, relishing in the new passion which the two of us seem to have now that our feelings are out. He loves me. I love him.  _He loves me_. 

After a few minutes of nothing but enjoying one another, we finally pull back. He straightens, keeping his hands tight on my waist. 

"Now, you get them clothes and I'll go start a hot bath for ya. I'll meet you out there." He presses one more kiss to my lips, winks, and steps out of my tent with a new swagger in his step. 

And later on when I'm taking the bath, I don't argue about his help. It turns out that I actually need it, considering moving more than a few inches in one direction hurts my ribs. When he stares at the cuts and bruises a little longer than normal and seems to swear under his breath more than usual I don't call him out on it. I don't yell at him when he helps wash me, and I don't feel self conscious being naked in front of him. I accept his help in dressing me, and I don't argue when he leads me up to his bedroom instead of my tent. I say nothing when he lays down and pats the area beside him, choosing to just give into my instincts and lay down on the mattress, covered by blankets and cuddled against a warm body. 

I don't complain, because I know that I love him. 

But most importantly, I know he loves me just as much in return. 


	27. Time to Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry that this took so long to get out. The semester is getting close to the end and things are picking up so I haven't had as much time to write as normal. Thank you to all of you who have been so patient and kind with your messages and comments! I love you guys so much. 
> 
> WARNING: implied smut. Like, very implied. Borderline explicit ? 
> 
> Question: what's the biggest thing you want to find out about in the story right now? Is it the whole thing going on with Colm, with Arthur's tickle in his chest, or something else? I already know what's going to happen but I'm curious as to what you guys are most excited to find out next!

_"So, you're just going to stay here forever?"_

_I shrug, taking a sip of my iced mocha. "Maybe. All I know is that the money is decent and I enjoy what I do. Not many people can say that these days."_

_Cameron narrows his eyes across the table at me, slowly biting into his blueberry muffin. "So no long term plans?"_

_I place my drink back down on the table. There aren't many people currently in the cafeteria in the hospital so we don't have to talk that loud in order to have a conversation._

_"Not really. My sister married right after she was done with college and my brother hasn't had to worry about looking for a job or anything since he moved out west with my parents. You know how it goes--he's a heart throb out there. I guess the whole obsession with cowboys is a real thing, telling by how many ex-girlfriends he's had."_

_My friend smirks at me, his boyish face lighting up with a private joke. "You don't feel any attraction to cowboys?"_

_I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Not really."_

_"But yet you play that Rockstar game all the time?"_

_I feel my mouth curl as I finally see where he's going with this. "That's different. The characters aren't real and their storylines make them more than just simple country people."_

_"So you're saying that if one of the characters in that game suddenly popped out here in front of you and confessed their undying love for you, you would turn them down?"_

_I can't help but snort at Cameron's preposterous notion. "I guess we won't know until it happens."_

* * *

 

A stirring beneath my head wakes me from the deep sleep that I had been enjoying. The edges of my mind desperately tries to grab onto the memory that I had been reliving in my dream, desperate to share some more time with Cameron, with my best friend. Desperate for something more that reminds me of home, of the life I used to live. Try as I might, I'm not strong enough to hold on. Before I know it the stiffness and aches I feel throughout my body overpowers any lingering peace that had surrounded me and leaves me feeling empty and in pain. 

I open my eyes, a wooden wall a few inches from my face. A large and comforting hand smooths across my hair and down my spine. My pillow rises and then falls, reminding me of the fact that I'm not sleeping on an actual pillow, but instead a human body. The familiar scars on the bare chest beneath my head tell me just who it is I apparently fell asleep on. 

"Bad dream?" Arthur's voice is low and husky from sleep. His free arm is curled around the back of his neck, propping his head up so that he can look down his nose at me. I tilt my head up to look at him, noting the groggy expression on his face. It isn't until his thumb moves to the area between my eyebrows and smooths out the skin there that I realize I must have been frowning. 

I snuggle back on his chest, my head resting just above his heart. The beating beneath my ear is constant and a reminder of where I am. He goes back to running his hand over my head, trying his best to give me some solace after waking up. "The opposite, actually."

Arthur hums, letting out a sigh. Neither of us wore a shirt when we went to bed last night, Arthur normally doesn't sleep in one and I didn't want to because the cloth would irritate my skin. It's part of the reason why I'm draped halfway across his chest rather than the bed right now. His fingers carefully avoid the tiny scrapes on my back that were so carefully covered with salve last night. It wasn't fun for him to put on me and it wasn't fun for my body to feel like it was on fire. 

He reaches down and tugs the blanket up a little bit from where it was kicked down by our thighs. He pulls it up until my back is halfway covered and some of the goosebumps that were crawling up my exposed skin go away. 

"Sometimes I wish I could live in my dreams, too." Arthur says quietly, situating himself under me once more. "Sure is a helluva lot easier than what we live in now."

I scoff, drifting my hand across his abdomen and feeling the soft hairs there. I move up and down slowly, feeling the bumps from his muscles and scars alike. It isn't until I begin to work down his side that he jumps a little, the hand that was under his head moving fast to grab a hold of my wrist. I glance up at the sheepish look on his face with puzzlement. 

"Sorry, just ain't used ta bein' touched there."

The corner of my mouth lifts as I hear what he's not saying. "Arthur Morgan, are you  _ticklish_?"

His face sours as he loosens his hold on my wrist, his fingers idly rubbing across the ruined skin from the ropes that were tied around them at one point. "No--and I wouldn't bother tryin' to find out in case you end up hurtin' yourself some more."

I smile deviously but relent, laying back down on his chest. He accepts my surrender, but I file that information away to the back of my mind for another day. 

_Arthur Morgan_ ticklish? _Oh, this is too good._

"How ya feelin'?"

"Like I was hit by a truck."

"A what?"

"A buck. I said buck."

"Oh." Arthur goes silent but I can feel his eyes on me. "That's an odd expression."

"Not really," I mumble under my breath. "Does Dutch have any big plans for you today?"

"No, he won't have me do nothin' today."

"Why?"

"'Cause he knows I won't be leavin' you." Arthur accentuates this by bringing my hand up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of my knuckles. 

I laugh softly. "Good, because let me tell you right now that I don't think I'll be moving from this spot for a  _long_  time." 

Arthur chuckles, lowering his arm to wrap around me gently. "That's fine by me, Darlin'."

And so there, in Arthur's tiny cot on the second floor of abandoned Shady Belle, the two of us lie together for a few more hours and just enjoy this tiny moment of peace with one another. 

* * *

 

“I’ve always wanted to be a doctor,” I lean forward so that Arthur can reach my lower back, “ever since I was a little girl. Even told my mom as much. She just laughed and went along with it. Her and Dad wanted me to be a veterinarian more than a critical injury doctor.”

“Critical injury doc, huh?” Arthur murmurs, rubbing the salve up and down my skin gently. “Mighty impressive. ‘Bet you could talk circles ‘round us here.”

I scoff, sitting up straight when he’s done. “Only when it comes to medical things. I couldn’t tell you how to skin a deer to save my life. If you guys hadn’t found me when you did I’m not sure I would’ve survived out on my own.”

“N’aw, you’d’ve been fine.” His hands rest gently on my shoulders and rub the tense muscles there. “Sure ain’t complainin’ though.”

I laugh softly, looking back at him over my shoulder and finding his face close enough that I can give him a kiss. He smirks when I face forward again and roll over to lay down on his chest once more. He leaves one hand at his side and uses the other to rest lightly on the back of my head.

“So, there’s a reason why I’m telling you that I’ve always wanted to be a doctor.”

Arthur doesn’t speak, merely hums.

“Where I come from… back home… it’s really hard for a person to become a doctor. I mean, I’m sure it is _now_ as well, but it’s really, _really_ hard back home. All these tests and things, and the fact that I’m female makes it even harder. People don’t think we’re smart enough to make it.”

I feel him stiffen beneath me. “Who’s sayin’ you ain’t smart? You want me to fight ‘em?”

I laugh, placing one calming hand on his chest. “No, no. This was a while ago. Calm down there, cowboy.” I wait until he’s relaxed once more before continuing.

“But I did it. I passed the tests, got all the necessary certifications, went through some _horrible_ internships and got all the experience I needed in order to get my position at my job in Pennsylvania. I had a group of people that worked closely and intimately with me, and if I didn’t know what I was doing then people would die. The blood of all the lives lost would be on my hands. In order to make sure that everything was as it should be, I had to be mean sometimes. I had to be in control.” I pause, taking a deep breath. “Do you see where I’m going with this?”

There’s a moment of silence before Arthur’s other hand comes forward and tips my chin until I can look him in the face.

“Just say what’s on your mind, Lily.”

I’m not afraid of having this conversation with Arthur. It has to be done if we’re to move on from this rock in the road that we’ve encountered, but I also know what the mentality of most men in this time period is like and I’m unsure of how he’s going to react. Arthur’s already proven himself to be pretty protective so I can only imagine that though he may not be angered, he won’t exactly be pleased either.

“I’m not used to being told to stay behind and do nothing, Arthur. I’ve worked hard, _so fucking hard_ , to be who I am today, and I can’t even begin to describe how angry it makes me when people try to stop me. Because I am _damn_ good at my job and refuse to be put down. I’m sorry about the past couple of days, but you need to know how important this is to me.” I can feel my eyes begin to heat up and I shove down the tears that threaten to flow. No, not now. “I know I’m not physically as strong as the rest of you but I can _help_. I don’t want anything to happen to the people here. If something had happened to Jack when you all went out to get him what would you have done? You don’t know the things that I do. What if you had been shot? If you had died and I could’ve prevented it I don’t know what I would have done, Arthur.”

Suddenly he’s sitting up on the bed once more, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tightly against him. He’s careful of the areas that he just covered in medicine but the urgency is there all the same.

“Oh, Darlin’. I’m real sorry, I am. I didn’t mean to upset you like that, I swear. It’s just that when you wanted to come with the first thing I thought of was you getting’ hurt and I hated the thought so I decided for you to stay. I see now I shouldn’t have done that. It’s hard for me too, Sweetpea.” He takes in a deep breath. “These are good people here, but they don’t always know what to do. I’m used to takin’ charge, havin’ to make decisions for others. Guess I’m not used to not havin’ to, well, not used to bein’ able to rely on people.”

I nuzzle my face into his chest, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. “I know the feeling. I’ve been so independent for so long that it’s hard for me to accept that there are people now that I can trust. You’ve changed me, Arthur.”

“Hosea and Dutch have made their fair share of comments on how I’ve gone soft, Micah too. Much as I wanna argue with ‘em, I know they’re right.” The look he’s giving me is soft and adoring, a look that I’ve always wanted to be on the receiving end of. I never thought that I would get it from someone as dreamy as him. “But as long as it’s you I’ve gone soft for, I don’t really mind.”

I smile up at him, seeing the corners of his eyes crinkle in return. “So, we have an understanding? You won’t boss me around anymore?”

Arthur takes in a deep breath, looking to the ceiling for a moment as he ponders my words.

“Sure, we have an understanding. But I won’t make no promises. If I think it’s too dangerous you ain’t comin’ along. You said it yourself—you ain’t as strong as we is and you’re not too good with a gun. Until you get better I’ll still be callin’ the shots on if you come along or not.”

I frown, ready to argue with him. He cocks a brow at me to say he isn’t finished, so I shut my mouth and silently stew while he keeps talking.

_“But,_ I’ll talk to you about it more. I won’t just say ‘no’. I was an ass last time, and I don’t want to make you feel like I did that last time. I don’t want to hurt you, Lily, and I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. If somethin’ happened to you out there then I’d be distracted and somethin’ might happen to the others because of it.”

I close my eyes and sigh, knowing that even though he’s telling me I’m basically benched that he has a fair point. He cares about my safety—he’s all but spelling it out for me—and he has a fair point about me being a liability out there. I’m not good with a gun or physically fighting someone who’s bigger than me. I’m a support person, not an attacker.

“What if I went along but stayed away from the main fighting, only going in if absolutely necessary?”

He narrows his eyes slightly as he looks down at me. “I’ll think about it.” It’s still a no from him, that much I can tell from his tone. But he’s trying. It’s something, and I appreciate it.

So I guess I’ll just have to go without him knowing.

I wrap my arms around him, tucking my head under his chin and closing my eyes. He’s warm and better than any pillow or mattress I’ve ever slept on before.

Arthur clears his throat, shifting around for a moment before laying back down and tugging the blanket over the both of us. He moves his legs away from mine ever so slightly, crowding close to the wall. I frown, moving against him and slipping my leg between his. He stiffens and once more begins to move around before situating himself. He’s tense beneath me, that much is obvious. It worries me. Is it because of what we talked about? Is he upset?

“Arthur, would you stop moving around?” I finally snap, lifting myself off his chest a little bit to look him in the face. He’s blushing a little bit, flustered about _something._

“Sorry, I’ll stop movin’.” He acquiesces, grimacing slightly before smoothing his features out.

I place one hand on his face, brushing my fingers over the stubble growing there. “What’s wrong?”

He clears his throat, suddenly a little sheepish. “Just bein’ dumb, don’t mind me.”

I don’t believe him for a second. It must show on my face because he sighs, his right hand clenching the bedsheet beneath him tightly. He’s still tense, that much I can easily tell.

“Arthur, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong—“

“—I’m fine, Lily, I promise. Just lay down.” His hand on my back practically forces me back down on his chest. I let out a huff, feeling him skim his fingers up and down my spine apologetically for being harsh. It’s soothing and easily lulls me into a relaxed state.

I just so happen to glance down at the end of the bed, and when I do I finally discover why Arthur has been so odd. I can’t believe I never noticed it before, considering it’s _right there,_ mere inches from where my knee is hitched up between his legs. No wonder he was shifting around so much.

Experimentally I let my hand drift down his stomach, across the hair beneath his belly button until I find what I’m looking for. Arthur nearly lurches off the bed, his eyes flying open and his head rising off his pillow to look at me with wide eyes.

“Lily--!”

“Arthur, why didn’t you say anything?”

He swallows roughly as he stares at me. “I ain’t gonna do nothin’ while you’re hurt. I’m sorry, it’s just a little hard to control myself when you’re lyin’ on me with no shirt and lookin’ like you do.”

I raise a brow at him. “Like I do now? Even with all my cuts and bruises?”

When I begin to move my hand he can’t help but let out a low groan, closing his eyes as he finally finds some of the release he was secretly longing for, for who knows how long.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Lily Edwards. How many times I gotta tell ya this before you start believin’ me?”

I grin up at him. “It’s nice to hear, especially now. Just because we can’t do one thing doesn’t mean I can’t do _something_ for you, Arthur.”

The sounds he makes as I move my hand and press soft kisses anywhere I can reach spurs me on. I’m more than happy to be of service to Arthur, especially after everything he’s done for me and missing him so much.

_“Jesus_ , Lily. You’re so good to me, Darlin’. So good. Soft and as beautiful as the risin’ sun.” He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as I press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “I love you so much.”

My heart swells with each of his praises. “I love you too, Arthur. My cowboy.”

His mouth quirks up into a crooked smile. “My doc.”

I grin, leaning up and capturing his mouth with my own. We make good use of the rest of the morning in that tiny bed at Shady Belle.

* * *

 

“Someone’s lookin’ better.”

I look up from the desk in Arthur’s room and over to the doorway. Sadie is leaning against the frame, a small smile on her face as she looks at me. Arthur left ten minutes ago just to check in quick and grab some food for the both of us before coming back so I figured I might as well put on some clothes and take a look at the inventory list of medical supplies Miss Grimshaw wrote up for me. Figuring out what we need from town will give me something to do while I’m recovering.

Sadie looks good, freshly bathed and dressed in a pretty maroon shirt with her normal riding pants. She steps into the room and sits herself down on the edge of Arthur’s bed. Taking her hat off she places it beside her, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees. I’m glad that I decided to finally put some real clothes on, since I wasn’t sure who would be unafraid to see me once Arthur was seen outside of his room.

“Feeling better, that’s for sure.” I laugh lightly, pushing the paper to the side so I can give her my full attention.

“Arthur looks better, that’s for sure.” She smiles coyly at me and I feel my face heat in response. “He was missin’ you.”

“I missed him too.”

She laces her fingers together, looking around the room. “Feel like we haven’t talked in a while.”

I sigh, leaning back in the chair until it creaks beneath me. “I haven’t talked to most of you guys in a while. I feel bad. Things have just been hectic lately.”

She makes a funny face for a moment before nodding her head. “What with Jack bein’ taken and all I can understand that.”

“I’m just glad he’s back and safe. Abigail isn’t going to let him out of her sight for a while, though. I can tell you that much.”

“My Jake said he wanted kids one day, I wasn’t too sure. We had so much we had to do just to get by that I didn’t even want to think of tryin’ to raise some kid on top of everythin’ else.”

I nod. “My family was pressuring me to settle down and think about starting my own family. I told them I didn’t have time, I was trying to get a few more years of independence under my belt before I thought of finding a husband, let alone a _kid.”_

“But you got Arthur now?”

I nod, a smile crawling across my face even at the mention of his name. “I wasn’t even looking and I found the best man out there.”

The corner of her mouth curls up mischievously. “Arthur ain’t got nothin’ on my Jakey, but I’ll agree that he’s definitely one of the better men here.”

“I would have loved to have met your husband.”

Her face turns sad suddenly, though it doesn’t seem to ruin the happy mood surrounding us. “I think you woulda liked him and him you. He has a thing for stubborn people.”

I wink at her. “He did marry the most stubborn person out there.”

She chuckles lightly at that, shaking her head good-naturedly. “What about you? You want kids? I know you said you didn’t have time for ‘em but that doesn’t answer if you want ‘em or not.”

“Well, did you want kids?”

She pauses, thinking. “I guess eventually. Especially if they got Jake’s good looks. But I was a long ways from thinkin’ of that sort of thing.”

I nod my head at her answer. “I mean, it’s hard for me to say. In my profession I’m busy. Constantly. Vacations are non-existent and I’m always on call in case I’m needed.”

Once more she makes that funny face at my words. “You talk weird sometimes. You’re all proper and use these big words and expressions that we ain’t used to ‘round here.”

I purse my lips. I know she’s not saying this to be insulting, she’s merely stating facts as she sees them. I never really noticed my speech and dialect being that different from the others. I guess I’m a little more grammatically correct and don’t really have that much of a southern accent like the others but nobody else seems to really mind.

“That a bad thing?”

“Hm, no.” She shakes her head. “But it shows that you ain’t from these parts.”

I could’ve told her that much. Part of going to medical school and trying to be where I am today meant that I had to be smart, all the time, in order to prove that I knew what I was doing. That even included my speech. I’m just used to being proper with what I say that I unconsciously correct myself if I misspeak.

Vulgar words don’t count.

Cam used to make fun of me and say I was too stiff and formal outside of the hospital. Looking back now I can see that he wasn’t wrong.

God. Cam. I miss him and his stupid jokes. I miss my team, I miss the smell of sterilized equipment and the feeling of rubber gloves on my hands. I miss breathing in the cloth mask and having my hair hidden under a cap during surgeries. I miss my other _life_.

“Lily? Lily? Are you listenin’?”

I come back to the present to find that apparently Sadie was asking me something but I was completely zoned out. I shake myself out of my stupor and release my death grip on the arm rests of the chair beneath me, feeling the blood rush back into my fingers.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you wanted kids.”

I sigh. “I mean, I guess I do. Not for a while, though. But now that I’m with Arthur I’m not sure if I’ll ever have kids. He told me some stuff about his life and I get the feeling he doesn’t want any kids.” Or at least he doesn’t want anymore kids. “So I don’t know.”

Sadie stares at me for a long moment. “You never know. That might change.”

I shrug. “I’d live if we didn’t. As long as I have Arthur I’ll be happy.”

A silence stretches between the two of us and she studies me, tilting her head to the side a little bit in the process. “You always get real sad when your home is brought up.” Her voice is quiet, almost as if she’s afraid to say this.

I look down at the ground, mulling her words over. “I miss it. A lot.”

“You ever think of goin’ back?”

The fight that Arthur and I had pops back up in my head, when he told me to just go home and I told him that even though I wanted to I couldn’t. I was hurt by his words, considering Arthur is aware of how much I miss my home and though he doesn’t know why, he does know I can’t go back.

“All the time.”

Arthur suddenly clears his throat, the two of us looking over to see him standing just inside the room. I smile softly at him as he looks between Sadie and I. He nods his head at the former in greeting. She stands to her feet, picking up her hat and placing it back on top of her head.

“I’ll leave you two alone. See you later, Lily.” With that she leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Arthur walks over and places a glass of water and plate with a sandwich on it in front of me. Something simple but enough for me right now until dinner.

“How much did you hear?” I ask quietly, picking up the sandwich and bringing it up to my mouth.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Enough.”

Arthur and I just fixed the rift between us—I don’t want the conversation I just had with Sadie causing another one. He doesn’t seem mad or upset by what he heard, just… quiet?

“You okay?” I tentatively ask, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He drags a chair over to the desk beside me and sits down, the old wood groaning at his weight.

“Are you happy, Lily? I need an honest answer.”

I frown. “I’m always honest with you.”

_Well, just because I leave out some facts doesn’t mean I’m not honest_.

“Then tell me now: are you happy here? With us? With me?”

I put my food back down and take his hand in my own, leaning forward. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been, Arthur. I’m happy wherever you are.”

He’s worried. There’s a crease between his brows and I can see that what Sadie and I talked about must have upset him a little bit. He looks down at our hands for a moment before meeting my gaze. “You sure?”

“Positive.” I back up my answer with a soft kiss to his lips. He responds and follows after me a little even after I pull away.

“I want you to tell me if that ever changes, all right?”

I nod, releasing him and turning back to my food as my stomach growls. “I promise.”

But I can feel his eyes flickering back to me in doubt the rest of the afternoon. 


	28. What Kind of Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rubs chest with closed fist*. LO SIENTO. I'M SORRY. I only know how to say that in three languages but I'M SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T POSTED IN SO LONG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. These past couple weeks in college have been a w f u l and I'm just now having time to write this chapter at my parent's house.
> 
> Thank you all soooooo much for the nice comments and messages! You guys help me not to forget about the commitment I've made to these wonderful characters and I can honestly say that this story wouldn't be where it is now if it weren't for you all. I hope to have another chapter by Wednesday, but if not then you can definitely expect on by Sunday. 
> 
> Not really a question, more of an opinion. I've been obsessed with the song 'Forever and For Always' by Shania Twain and I just think that describes LIly's opinion towards Arthur pretty well??? I love listening to songs and seeing how it fits in this story. I hope you guys have a great week! I love you all soooooo much!!!

The following night I feel well enough to join the others outside around the campfire for dinner. I just finish getting a glass of water and turn to walk back over to the fire to find that Micah has taken my seat beside Hosea. Micah waves at me sarcastically while Hosea and I glare at the man. I can see he's about to speak up on my behalf but I just shake my head and walk over towards where Arthur is seated on a crate, ready to sit down on the ground in front of his legs. But before I can actually do it he's reaching out and wrapping one hand around my waist to tug me onto his lap. I'm surprised that he's doing this in front of the others but I'm not exactly complaining. 

I notice Charles and John smirking at the two of us but Arthur doesn't pay either of them any mind. I settle into his arms, holding my water loosely in my lap as I lean my back against his front. Mary-Beth and Karen are conversing with Sean. They must be getting his wound up about something, telling by how fast he's talking while the women laugh with one another. Dutch is lounged in a chair, Molly and him arranged in a similar fashion to Arthur and I. Molly looks a little stiffer, though I do believe she is enjoying the attention he's giving her. 

Bill and Javier are speaking to Hosea about some book that he's currently holding. Abigail is holding Jack in her lap while the boy eats a piece of chocolate that Arthur surprised him with. I'm not sure where he got it from but the happiness in the boy's eyes clearly made Arthur happy as well. 

"Did y'all hear them gator's last night?" Lenny asks, drawing most people's attention as he ambles over to the group and sits cross legged on the ground with a bowl of Pearson's stew. 

Bill snorts. "They weren't makin' no noise, boy."

Lenny raises a brow. "I'm pretty sure I heard 'em. Sounded real close--and big too!"

"Just don't go messin' around the swamp by yourself and you'll be fine." Dutch interrupts, chuckling at the younger man's worries. "'Sides, if somethin' does happen to one of ya's, then we got ourselves a mighty fine doctor to patch you up."

I can't help but to blush at the unexpected compliment from Dutch. He catches my eye and winks, smiling widely at me. I notice Molly straightens even more in her seat and Arthur's arms seem to tighten just the tiniest bit.

"When is that thing going on with Bronte again?" Arthur asks, clearing his throat to change the subject. 

"What thing?" I ask, turning to look back at him. 

"He's hosting a party. Apparently some big-name people are going to be in attendance. As far as he knows, it's just our way of mingling with the good people of Saint Denis. In reality it'll be like our own little hot spot of people that need robbin'. They'll basically be puttin' their money in our hands." Dutch sounds thoroughly pleased with himself. "In a few days he'll be expectin' us to be there."

“Who exactly is ‘us’?”

“Arthur, Bill, Micah, and myself of course.” Dutch spreads his hands out like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you sure you really trust this man?” I sit forward, glancing at John, noticing how his name was left out of that particular group. “After everything he’s done and you’re just going to be buddy-buddy with him?”

“It’ll be fine, Lily.” Arthur says quietly, rubbing a hand up and down my arm soothingly. He coughs suddenly, reaching forward and taking the water from my hands and drinking from it before handing it back. I look back at him with concern.

"You okay?"

He nods, waving off my worry. "Just swallowed wrong." 

I look at him for a few seconds to see if he's lying to me but he doesn't seem to be. So I let it go and turn back to the problem at hand.

“His character is questionable. Dutch, surely you won’t just blindly listen to everything this man says?”

Some of Dutch’s features smooth out into a semblance of a frown. “I don’t do anything _blindly_ , Miss Lily.”

Aw, shit. Now Dutch thinks I’ve insulted him.

"I'm not saying you do--but this man took Jack. I just don't want anything happening to the rest of you. Please just be careful."

Dutch seems appeased with that. "I'm touched that you're so concerned--but we're grown men. We can take care of ourselves. Ain't that right, boys?"

Bill mutters something under his breath and Micah smirks at Dutch with a raise of his beer. The smirk turns down when he looks over to me, so I answer him with a scowl of my own. 

I lean back against Arthur once more when I get the feeling that the conversation is done and over with. Dutch has begun to whisper something to Molly, making her grin down at him. Arthur's hand resting on my stomach begins to play idly with the cloth on my shirt, rubbing it together between his fingers. I lift my own hand and place it over his, feeling the rough skin of his knuckles down to his wrist. 

"Lily, you know any good songs?" Tilly catches my attention, throwing me a little off-guard. She settles onto the ground beside Karen and looks up at me expectantly. 

Songs? God, all of the songs that I've heard while being here are ones that aren't played in my time. Any song that I know will be completely foreign to them. 

"Uh, sorry, I don't." I laugh nervously, gripping Arthur's hand. "Javier, why don't you sing something again? I love listening to you play guitar."

Javier winks in my direction and stretches his hand out to grab his instrument that's leaning against one of the chairs. He places it in his lap, preparing to play. "Anything for you, chica."

As Javier begins to strum the first chords of a fast song I situate myself more in Arthur's lap. His hand on my stomach drifts down unawares to settle on the top of my thigh. I don't pay it too much mind, too caught up in Javier and his Spanish song. He really is quite good. 

It isn't until I feel Arthur's other hand lightly pinch my side that I look back at him. There's a twinkle in his eye that betrays the stern expression on his face. "You alright?"

I nod, letting out a sigh. "I'm fine."

He moves a tiny bit beneath me and slips his hand between my thighs in the process. "Yer awful tense."

I grin slyly down at him. "You going to do something about that?"

I don't really know where this playfulness came from, but apparently I'm not the only one who's in the mood. Arthur leans forward until his lips are by my ear, his warm breath fanning across the delicate skin of my neck. It sends shivers through my body and I'm hoping that nobody notices what the two of us are doing right now. He squeezes my thigh with the hand between my legs and moves it forward dangerously. He only stops when I lightly grab his wrist, but I get the feeling he wasn't planning on quitting his advances. I really don't want everyone here around the fire to see Arthur and I get it on, though. That's a big mood killer. 

Especially with little Jack right there. And Micah. 

Oh God, I need to stop thinking about Micah or I might ruin what little fun Arthur and I are having right now. 

"Whatchu want me to do about it?"

I close my eyes, leaning back against his chest. I hum to myself, acting like I'm thinking really hard about his question. 

"I have a few ideas." When I look at him again his eyes have darkened and I can tell that we're no longer playing a game anymore. 

Without saying another word Arthur puts his drink on the ground by his seat and stands, forcing me to stand in the process as well. He reaches down and grabs my hand, nodding his head at everyone as we start to leave the fire. 

"Been a long day, we need ta get some shut-eye." He explains, not looking back once we're walking towards the house. 

"Make sure Lily gets plenty o' sleep, Arthur!" Sean calls after the two of us. I hear his laughter for a few seconds before the sound of someone getting smacked follows shortly after and then Karen berating him. I laugh quietly to myself. 

Although I must not do it quietly enough because Arthur hears. He looks at me over his shoulder and smiles softly, the corner of his perfectly plump lips pulling up as he watches me. I curl my other hand around his forearm and pick up the pace so that I'm walking beside him and not after him. By the time we make it up the stairs and to his room he's antsy and just plain impatient, if the way he slams the door shut and begins to practically rip his own clothes off is anything to go by. 

"You sure about this?" He pauses for a half a second with his hands on the buttons of his pants, looking up at me with sudden seriousness. "I don't wanna rush you after--"

I move forward and undo the buttons myself, pressing a soft kiss to the mouth that's been plaguing my thoughts since this morning. "I'm fine. I want this."

He drops his hands and lets me do the work, watching my movements. "You'll let me know if you hurt or somethin' changes?"

My chest warms at his concern. Telling by how tight the front of his pants looks I can see that he really wants this to happen, yet he's willing to stop if I'm not up for it. 

I would die for this man. 

"You'll be the first to know." I joke lightly, letting him step out of his pants and begin to pull off his union suit. I begin to work on my own buttons but he grabs my hands gently, shaking his head and pushing me backwards until I'm sitting down on the bed. 

"Let me take care of you tonight. You don't worry 'bout nothin'."

I want to argue but I don't say anything. The determination in his eyes tells me that there's no fighting him on this. Arthur doesn't even bother undoing the buttons on my shirt, merely gestures for me to lift my arms and tugs the article of clothing over my head. He tosses it to the side where his clothes now sit in a pile as well. He pushes lightly on my shoulder, having me lie down on my back. He crawls up the bed until he's hovering over me, knees on either side of my legs and his hands resting on the mattress by my shoulders. He leans down and kisses me gently, trailing his lips across my chin and down my neck to my shoulders. 

He pulls back suddenly, staring down at me. He doesn't say anything and I can tell from the worry lines beginning to appear on his forehead that he isn't thinking good thoughts. 

"Hey," I say softly, reaching my hand up and placing it gently against his face. It breaks him out of whatever stupor he was in and his eyes flicker up to mine. "I'm okay. Really."

He sighs, nuzzling his cheek against my palm, the scruff of his light beard scratching my skin. "I hate when ya get hurt."

I grin almost sarcastically up at him. "That makes two of us."

He narrows his eyes playfully at me and nips at my hand gently. I yank it back and giggle beneath him. That gets a smile out of him as well. 

"Y'know what I mean."

I nod my head, trailing my hands up his arms lightly until I reach his back. The muscles tense and relax beneath my touch. "I do. I can't tell you what it means to me that you're so concerned about my well-being." I dig my fingers into his back a little bit, tugging on him slightly until he's close enough above me that I can feel the warmth from his body caressing my own. "But right now I have way too much clothing on and that's not fair to you. I think you should do something about that, yeah?"

That glint comes back to his eye and he gets the hint, happy to play along. He kisses me quickly before sitting up and moving down to my pants, taking his time in removing the last of my clothes. 

"I love you, Lily."

"I love you too, my sweet Cowboy."

* * *

"How's this?"

"That's perfect! Keep moving, just like that. Just don't go out any further, okay?" 

"Okay Miss Lily!"

I smile, shielding my eyes from the bright sun with my hand pressed to my forehead. I miss sunglasses. I guess I'll just have to add that to the list of things taken for granted that one never really thinks they'll miss. 

That list just seems to keep growing bigger and bigger each day. First it was a washing machine, then it was a shower and indoor plumbing, then it was toenail clippers, and here I am adding sunglasses. Have I mentioned a washing machine yet? Still not over that one. 

I sit down on the sand gingerly a few feet from John. He's cleaning his pistols, paying less attention to Jack's swimming lesson than he was last time, but at least he's still coming. Even though this may be Jack's fourth swimming lesson, he's improved  _a lot_. It makes me wonder how well John would be doing if he would actually try, considering he's a grown man who has full control of his limbs compared to a child. Off to the side of Shady Belle is a tiny little beach that leads further into the swamp. He'll need a good bath once we're done, but it's a decent place for me to continue his lessons for him.

I had Arthur and Charles make sure there were no possible threats hiding in the water, mainly alligators. I hate them. I get the feeling that the two men thought my fear was a little funny but once I described to them the many ways of dying from being attacked by an alligator the smiles somehow disappeared off their faces. Weird, huh?

"I can feel you starin' at me." John states without looking up from the task in his lap. 

I purse my lips. "Good."

"You gonna stop?"

"You going to get in the water?"

"No."

"Then I'm not going to stop."

He goes on for a few more seconds, continuing like it doesn't bother him. But once he gets the idea that I'm serious about not stopping he pauses and sighs, looking up at me. His shoulder-length hair gives him a very emo look with how it's currently dangling in front of his eyes. I have the sudden urge to reach out and tuck it behind his ears but I don't think it would look good like that and I also feel like he wouldn't appreciate that very much. 

"I'm here, ain't I? What more do ya want?"

I can't help but roll my eyes at the question, considering it has a very obvious answer. "I want you to actually learn how to swim, dumbass."

He narrows his eyes at the insult. "And that's supposed to make me want to get in? Name callin'?"

I refrain from rolling my eyes  _again_. "I'm trying to teach you a very good life skill here, John. What happens if you get in some literal deep-shit and can't get out? What if Arthur or Dutch or me aren't around to save you from drowning? What then? You'll just die?"

John's lip curls. "Guess so."

"He's going to die?"

The tiny voice breaks the heated moment that was beginning to grow between John and I. We look forward to see that Jack is no longer swimming in tiny circles and is instead dripping water into a tiny puddle in front of us on the sand. The scared look on his face as he looks from me over to John nearly breaks my heart. 

"Oh, honey, no." I reach forward and grab one of his small hands in my own, pulling him forward until he's standing directly in front of me and I can look straight into his eyes so he knows I'm serious. "I was just teasing. Your daddy isn't going to die."

I can feel John staring at me even though I don't outright see him doing it. 

"Uh, that's right, Jack." John coughs, trying to think of what to say to his son. "It was just a laugh between me 'n Lily."

Jack doesn't seem to buy it. "You aren't laughing."

I stand up, turning Jack around and pushing him towards the water once more. "How about I show you how to float on the water now? Would you like that?"

That seems to brighten the little boy's mood once more and he eagerly runs towards the water. I glance back at John over my shoulder, pausing in the sand for a moment.

"You coming?"

John watches me, glancing down at the guns in his lap while he thinks over my question. He finally looks back up at me, his hat casting a strip of shade across his eyes. Lucky bastard. 

"I got some stuff that needs done over here."

I frown at him, not quite able to hide the disappointment from my face as I shake my head. I know he sees it by the way his jaw clenches and he casts his eyes back down to the guns in his lap. I know John is a few years younger than I am, maybe 26? Something like that. I know that I don't intimidate him and I know that we're on much better terms than we were months ago, so I don't understand what's holding him back from just letting me  _help_ him. Fragile masculinity? Most likely. 

I turn without another thought and walk over to Jack, who's already standing waist-deep in the water and looking up at me expectantly. It's nice to know that  _someone_ isn't afraid to listen to what I have to tell them.

* * *

I'm walking back to the house after cleaning up from the swimming lesson with Jack when I decide to stop in and see how Bishop is doing. Kieran practically jumps to his feet from where he was seated on a stump outside of his tiny tent. He stumbles over a greeting and I can't help but to laugh at how adorable and innocent this man is. 

"You're fine, Kieran. I just wanted to check in on my horse." 

Kieran smiles at that, relaxing a little. "T-the white one? What'd you call her, Baptist?"

"Bishop." I correct with a smile. 

He looks embarrassed that he got it wrong. "Right, sorry. She's doin' pretty good--she's finally used to having something on her back. She can't quite wear a saddle with it being done up yet, but she can handle the weight on her back without wanting to kick it off every two seconds. And she's pickin' up on trotting!" He sounds more excited for this improvement than a kid in a candy store. I'm amazed with the progress he's making. 

"That's awesome! You're the best, Kieran."

He blushes at my compliment. He goes to say something but his eyes look at something behind me and his mouth just kind of hangs open, no real words coming out. Raising a brow I look behind me to see Mary-Beth walking over to her and Tilly's tent behind me. She has to be what Kieran's looking at because she's the only one who's in our line of sight right now. She must feel both of our eyes on her because she suddenly looks up from the book that her nose was buried in and waves at us, a bright smile lighting her features. I smile and return the gesture before facing Kieran again to find he's still watching her with the same dazed expression. 

"Kieran? Kieran." I say, snapping my fingers in front of his face. He shakes himself from whatever stupor he was in and looks at me like he didn't know I was there the whole time. His face right now is similar to a child who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

"S-sorry, Lily. What were you sayin'?"

He seems really embarrassed by what just happened, even though nothing really even happened? The pieces of this puzzle start to come together in my head until I finally get the big picture. Does Kieran have a crush on Mary-Beth?

"I didn't say anything. You were the one talking." I tease him, crossing my arms on my chest and leaning on one hip. 

"I'm real sorry. What was we talkin' 'bout?"

A small grin crawls across my lips. "Kieran, what do you think of Mary-Beth?"

His eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head. "M-Mary-Beth? Why? Did she say somethin' about me? I swear I haven't said nothin' about her."

I shake my head, holding my hands up to calm him down before he works himself into a tizzy. "I'm not blind, Kieran. I saw how you looked at her." I can see the word vomit that's about to come out of his mouth so I shake my head to stop him. "I won't say anything if you don't want me to, but I just want you to know I think it's cute."

Kieran's face is redder than a tomato. He takes his hat off his head and messes with the rim between his fingers nervously. "You do?"

I nod my head. "Yes! You're a good man, Mary-Beth would be lucky to have a man like you."

He glances off in the direction of Mary-Beth's tent longingly. "Most people in this camp don't like me."

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "Most people don't bother to take the time to get to know you. I know you're not an O'Driscoll, Kieran. You've done more for this group of people than most like to acknowledge. They're just to stubborn to see when a person has changed."

He steps close, lowering his voice. "I never liked them O'Driscoll's. Colm wasn't a good leader, not like Dutch. I was only with 'em because I had nowhere else to go."

"I believe you. I think you should take a chance with Mary-Beth, though." I place my hand on the side of his arm. "Who knows what you'll find out?"

"That she thinks I'm disgusting and wants nothing to do with me?"

_"Or_ the opposite. Man, and I've had people tell me that  _I'm_ a pessimist."

"A what?"

"A Debby-Downer." He shakes his head. "A cynic?" Now he's looking at me like I've grown two heads. How do people not know what these things mean? "Someone who always sees the bad in everything and never the good."

Kieran makes an 'ohhh' sound, nodding his head. "You know some funny words."

I roll my eyes, turning around and walking back to the heart of camp. "I've been told once or twice." 

Once I'm walking past the tents outside and about to walk up the steps to head to Arthur's room I'm surprised when a delicate hand wraps itself around my arm and stops me. I say delicate because when I see who owns the hand I find it belongs to the one person in camp who has yet to do any real work for the people who live in this gang of outlaws besides sit still and look pretty. 

"Molly?" I question, surprised by her sudden appearance. "Are you okay?" 

She looks as though she's already regretting stopping me. Her eyes dart back towards her and Dutch's shared tent, her hand uncurling from my arm slowly and joining the other to cross protectively in front of her chest. She casts her green eyes to the side and glances at the ground, obviously struggling to find the words to say. 

"I'm fine." She says shortly, not looking at me. 

She doesn't say anymore, so I guess that must be all. Shaking my head I turn to walk up the stairs once more. "All right then."

"No, wait!" She moves forward and stops me again. I had just put my foot on the first step so when she stops me this time I turn and place my hand gently on her back, steering her around to the back of the house where none of the other camp folk are in hearing distance. I face her, giving her a 'go ahead' look and waiting somewhat impatiently for her to begin to explain. 

She sighs in frustration and closes her eyes. "It's Dutch."

Figures. "What about Dutch?"

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. "He's just... He doesn't pay any attention to me anymore."

Oh, Lord. Is that what this really is about? "Molly, he's got a lot on his plate right now. The Pinkertons are after him and he's working on finding a place for us to go after we have to inevitably leave Shady Belle. He's probably just tired and doesn't have as much time as either of you would like him to."

She shakes her head, upset with my answer. "That's not what I mean. I know Dutch Van Der Linde is a busy man, I was aware of that when I first laid eyes on 'im." Her accent is thick, relaying just how upset she really is by this even though she won't outright say it herself. "I mean that he doesn't talk to me anymore. When I have somethin' to tell him he doesn't listen and when he has a problem he won't tell me about it. That's not how we used to work. There weren't secrets between us, but now it feels like there's nothing _but_ secrets. I hate it."

I feel bad for Molly, I really do. I didn't know that she was this upset by Dutch's behavior as of late. I know that she doesn't really do that much to help us others with the chores and for that I'm a little irritated, but it seems that everyone really does have their own demons. And it sounds like Molly has had to deal with hers quietly by herself for some time now.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you and Arthur seem to have a pretty healthy relationship." There's a hint of jealousy in her tone. "The two of you last night were how Dutch and I used to be."

"You and Dutch seemed to be fine last night!"

"That's in front 'o other people. Behind the walls of our tent there's nothin' but silence. I don't know how much more I can take."

I frown. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"

She waves her hands around angrily. "That's just it! I have! The bastard won't listen to me!"

I feel like Molly and Dutch's relationship is a whole different breed of coupling, but clearly this woman is desperate if she's coming to me with her problems. I guess I'll have to try something. Maybe I can talk to Arthur and he can speak with Dutch? They have a close relationship.

"I'll try my best, okay? I can't make any promises that I'll actually make things better, though."

She smooths her dress down with her hands. "I'll take anything at this point."

"Let me speak to Arthur and mayb--"

"Lily! Lily, come quick!"

The urgent shouting from the front of the house stirs a familiar emotion inside of me and without a parting glance at the Irish woman I'm running around to where the commotion is coming from. 

"Lily!" Charles is running towards me, Taima a few feet behind him suggesting that he jumped off the horse without even coming to a complete stop. The worry on his face makes my stomach sink with fear. Did something happen to Arthur? Is he okay?

"What? What's wrong?"

Charles grabs the same arm that Molly had been holding just a few minutes ago and tugs me quickly inside of Shady Belle to where the kitchen was supposed to be. There on the table in the center of the room lays Lenny, pain written on every inch of the young man's face. 

"We went back to Rhodes and I guess people were waitin' for us because there was dynamite set up on the wall of one of the buildings. The explosion knocked Lenny off his horse. Says some of his side is missin'."

I push everyone away from the poor boy, my eyes instantly locking onto his left side where both of his hands are shakily holding tightly. I pry them away gently, looking to see a wound about the size of my hand steadily oozing blood. There are some small pieces of wood and rock stuck in his muscle. I can tell that each caress of air on the area brings a large amount of pain with it. 

"Alright!" I order, looking up at the crowd that has gathered in the tiny room. "I need all of you to leave. Miss Grimshaw, get me the same supplies from when we treated Arthur. Make sure the water is nice and hot. Arthur get me your special bottle of alcohol from your dresser." The man doesn't even cry about his precious stash being used, he just bounds up the steps to get what I tell him to. "Charles, I need you to go into Saint Denis and see if there are any antibiotics at the doctor's."

"Any what?"

I swear under my breath, closing my eyes briefly and trying to think of what he might be able to get. "Uh, just, just get some medicine. Whatever they have, one of each. I'll pay you back personally. The rest of you get out. This won't be pretty."

Every disperses, leaving me alone with Lenny in the house. I can hear Arthur on the floor above me rummaging around, looking for the bottle that will be the best pain killer Lenny can get at this point right now. 

"It hurts, Miss Lily." Lenny gets out through gritted teeth. I have to hold his hands down so he won't place them over his side again. He's dirty and will only make the risk of infection higher than it already is. That's the last thing we need right now. 

I smooth my hand through the dark hair on top of his head, shushing him. "I know, it'll be okay. I'll take good care of you, I promise."

Lenny doesn't say anything, merely nods and sucks in air harshly through his teeth. Arthur stomps down the steps and holds the bottle out to me. 

"You should go." I nod at him, taking the object from him and pulling the lid off. I help Lenny gingerly take a few sips to start out. 

Arthur presses a hard kiss to the top of my head, squeezing my side. "You'll be fine, kid. You're in the best possible hands." Arthur nods at me and holds the door open for Miss Grimshaw as she enters with the things I need. 

Why were Charles and Lenny even in Rhodes? Aren't we supposed to be steering clear of that place, considering that's why we're on the run and had to come to Shady Belle in the first place? Questions for another time. Right now I need to stop Lenny from bleeding out. 

And oddly enough, it's in times like these--with a person's life in my hands--that I'm at my calmest. 

 

 


	29. New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! So sorry about the wait these past few weeks. But the good news is that I finished my second year at college so now I can dedicate more time to this story! Thank you for all the support. I love you guys so much. 
> 
> A lot of interesting stuff in this chapter. Be ready. 
> 
> Question: Who do you think the new person is? You'll know who I'm talking about when you finish reading.

"Can I move yet?"

"Not yet."

"How about now?"

"I just said no."

"My nose is itchy."

Arthur sighs, placing his pencil down in the spine of his journal for a moment as he looks up at me. He raises a brow, giving me a look like I should know better than to complain about having to sit still for the past hour. 

"You can scratch yer nose, Lily."

I let out a breath and move my hand, feeling the sweet relief as I finally get rid of the itch that's been plaguing me for the past ten minutes. 

"Most of the time yer real nice for someone to draw but right now yer worse than Jack when he's playin' with Cain."

I roll my eyes, dropping my hand back to its original place and once more assuming the position that I was in before. Miss Grimshaw is currently watching over Lenny while the boy rests, insisting that I go get some fresh air. I went up to the balcony outside of Arthur's room and was just enjoying the view when the man himself stumbled upon me and insisted that I 'sit right there and don't move a muscle' while he apparently went to go get his journal. Don't get me wrong--I'm touched that he wants to draw me--but I can still feel the energy from taking care of Lenny buzzing beneath my skin and it's making it extra hard to sit still in one place for long, let alone an  _ hour _ .

"But I'm worth it in the end." I smirk and send a wink his direction. 

He chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up his pencil once more. "Ain't gonna argue with ya on that one. Definitely the prettiest thing I've ever drawn."

I laugh, feeling myself warm at his compliment. "Shut up."

Now that my nose is no longer itchy it's a little easier to sit there. It is a nice day out and the breeze feels soothing as it brushes against my skin. It only took Grimshaw and I about two hours to fix Lenny up enough that he was stable. He's going to have a decent scar but he won't lose any more blood and--heaven forbid--unless he gets an infection the only thing for him to do is get better. Grimshaw knew that I was fretting so she shooed me out of the kitchen and up to Arthur's room to rest. But with my mind going a thousand miles a minute I knew it would be impossible to sleep. I guess it's a good thing that Arthur found me. He hasn't mentioned Lenny, instead keeping a nice silence between us with the occasional sound of his pencil on the paper or the camp below us filling the air. 

"I have to meet Trelawny in town today." Arthur says offhandedly. I turn in his direction but after the pointed look he gives me I go back to my original position. 

"What for?" I haven't seen Trelawny in a few weeks. I wonder how the sly bastard is doing?

"To get a suit for this party with Bronte. Dutch wants us to get all fancied-up so that we can blend in more." Arthur laughs under his breath, and without even looking at him I can tell he's shaking his head. "All we's gonna be doin' is playin' dress up."

"Arthur Morgan in a suit? There's no way I'm missing that."

Arthur laughs again, placing his pencil in his journal and shutting it. He stands to his feet, the boards of the old house creaking beneath his weight. He shuffles over to me, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I relax in my seat, now free to move as I wish. 

"I would invite ya to come with but I ain't so sure how it's gonna look."

I place a hand over my chest in mock-offense. "You think I'm going to make fun of you or something? Arthur, I would  _ never _ \--"

"I know, I know." He waves me off, walking over to the door to enter his room. "Fine. If you want to then we'll head out in a little bit." He points a finger at me, trying to be serious but I see the humor in his eyes. "But one joke and I'll put you on a horse back to camp myself."

I hold up my hand. "Scout's honor."

He frowns, tilting his head to the side. "Huh?"

I wave him off, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes. "Just go get some decent clothes on, cowboy." Arthur shakes his head with a smile and walks back into the house. I can hear him moving around in his room, opening his trunk and the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he changes his clothes. 

As I glimpse down at the camp below I see Charles walking out of his tent towards the horses. The sight of him stirs up that same confused feeling from before. Even though my feet are aching and I am pretty tired, I push out of my seat and head down the stairs so that I can reach him before he goes anywhere. 

He's just lifting the saddle and carrying it over to Taima when I jog over to him. "Charles!"

The burly man pauses, turning to the side to see who's calling his name. Some of the tense expression fades from his face when he sees me and he slows down on his way over to his horse so that I can catch up. 

"How's Lenny?"

"He'll be okay--he's going to be resting for a while, though." Charles frowns at this, hoisting the saddle on Taima's back a little harsher than necessary. I note how tense he seems to be, if the furrow between his brow isn't already a dead give away that he's upset. 

"Charles, I need to ask you something." He pauses, looking at me and nodding. "Why were you and Lenny in Rhodes? What  _ happened _ there?"

Something that I can't quite read flits across his face. He turns back to Taima, avoiding my gaze. "I told you. They must have been waiting for us and they had planted explosives on the side--"

_ "No. _ I want to know what prompted the two of you to go back to that place after the shootout."

A breeze blows between the two of us, moving some of his long hair into his face. He sighs, looking down at the ground and shaking his head while muttering something under his breath.

I step closer. "What?"

"Dutch..." Charles closes his eyes for a second, obviously frustrated. He shakes his head and straightens, turning around to look me directly in the eye. "Dutch sent Lenny and I there."

"Why?"

"Because apparently he overheard some O'Driscoll's that were talkin' mention your name in Saint Denis. Said they was gonna meet up at Rhodes to do somethin', so I'm guessing they didn't know about the mess you guys left back there."

My heart starts to beat a little faster in my chest. "They mentioned my name? How do they even know who I am?"

"Apparently those bastards from Valentine weren't lyin'--they have your picture. Not sure how they got your name, but they do know what you look like."

I feel myself space out from the moment. I can see that Charles' lips are moving and  _ know _ he's talking to me, but I can't hear anything. Everything is moving slower than normal around me and the tips of my fingers are starting to get tingly. 

"--ily. Lily!"

Reality snaps back as Charles grabs a hold of my shoulders and shakes them violently, pulling me out of the hole I felt myself falling into. I look at him wide-eyed, not speaking. He must see the shock on my face because his loosens his hold on me and his features soften. 

"Nothing is going to happen to you. That's why Dutch sent Lenny and I. He wants to take care of you. You're one of us, ain't nothin' going to happen while you have us. Understand?"

My eyes begin to burn as the realization sinks in. "Lenny got hurt because of me."

Charles immediately starts shaking his head. "No, no he did not. Those explosives most likely weren't planted by the O'Driscolls and instead by some angry Grays."

"He wouldn't have  _ been _ there if it weren't for me!"

Charles sighs, closing his eyes tightly for a moment as it looks like he tries to get his thoughts back under control. "Lenny wanted to go, alright? He overheard Dutch talkin' to me about it and volunteered. It was the boy's decision and if he knew you were beating yourself up over it you would upset him. Is that what you want? For him to feel bad?"

I narrow my eyes even as I still feel a guilt strong enough to make me sick settle in my stomach. "I see what you're doing. It's not working."

The corner of Charles' mouth lifts up the slightest bit. "Yes it is. I shouldn't have even told you. I didn't want to make you upset, and I'm sure that's what Dutch was hoping to avoid too."

I sigh, rubbing my hands across my face. "No, I'm glad you told me. There's so much shit I have to figure out. Everything is one big puzzle and I feel like I'll never solve it." I look up at him, taking his much bigger and thicker hands in my own. These are working hands--hands that have seen and done a lot in their time on Earth. "Can you promise me something?"

Charles looks puzzled but nods his head anyways. "Okay..."

I clear my throat, looking him straight in the eye so that he knows I'm serious. "Don't ever, and I mean  _ ever _ , risk your life or anyone else's like this just for me ever again, okay? Now knowing that the reason Lenny is hurt is because of me--don't look at me like that, it is because of me--is enough to make me want to vomit all over your shoes. If one of you were to  _ die _ because of me? My own fate would be worse than death."

Charles looks a little taken aback. "Now, Lily--"

I shake my head. "No. Promise me. I need you to say it."

Charles looks at me intently, seeing that I won't be backing down and I'm dead serious. He waits a few seconds before nodding his head. 

"I promise."

I sigh in relief. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to check on Lenny and see if the boy is in good enough shape before I smack some sense into him. Then I have to get ready to go meet Trelawny with Arthur." I pause, staring at nothing in front of me. "Oh, no. Maybe I shouldn't go."

"Go where?"

"Arthur is going to meet Trelawny in Saint Denis. But if Dutch saw the O'Driscoll's in Saint Denis then maybe I shouldn't go."

Charles watches me for a moment. "I'm sure as long as Arthur is there you'll be more'n safe. Letting you get hurt is the last thing that man would let happen. Go with him and try to relax. I'm sure the women here can watch over Lenny while you're gone."

Charles's voice is reassuring and I feel myself agreeing with what he's saying. Maybe he's right. Plus I can probably pick up some better medication for Lenny in town while we're there anyway since I know what I need. 

"You goin' to that party at Bronte's?"

I shake my head. "I'm just going to help Arthur find a suit. I don't exactly look presentable for a party right now."

Charles scoffs. "You'd outshine all of them there, Lily."

I mock-glare at him. "Sweet talking me won't help your case right now, Charles. You're going to be in the dog house for a while."

"The what?"

My head falls into my hands with a groan.

* * *

 

"Miss Lily Edwards! My, you look...wonderful?"

I laugh, stepping forward and bypassing Trelawny's outstretched hand to pull him in for a hug. He's startled by my straight forward action but also doesn't push me away. 

"It's been a rough couple of days," I explain as I step back. Arthur and I rode into Saint Denis on Winston and Chewie, finding Trelawny rather quickly. The man's voice carries and it was quite easy for Arthur and I to find him smooth-talking some women outside of a theater. 

"My dear lady, I can only imagine." Trelawny, as suave as ever, tries to make the best of what is my face. I know that I don't exactly look the best right now, though it is better than a few days ago. He's dressed to the nine's in a clean pin-up suit with matching top hat. This man is always ready to attract the necessary attention. 

"Why do you look so fancy?" I ask, walking between the two men as we head towards Trelawny's preferred tailor. 

"Why, if I'm to get something suitable enough for this roughian to wear to a party that the mayor will be attending then I need to make sure at least  _ one _ of us knows what they're looking for."

I can sense Arthur tensing at my side so I loop my arm through his casually. "That's not really fair. I'm sure Arthur is more than capable of finding something on his own."

"Naw, he's right." Arthur cuts in, looking around at the people around us with narrowed eyes beneath the shadow of his hat. "I don't know 'bout none of this fancy stuff."

I frown. "Well, I could've helped you."

"No matter, we're here now." Trelawny opens the door and sweeps his arm out. "Ladies first."

I shake my head with a smile and walk in, happy to go from the heat outside to a...slightly less hot room inside. Have I mentioned air conditioning on the list of things I miss?

"Good afternoon!" The clerk behind the desk greets the three of us, stepping out from behind the desk to shake hands with Arthur and Trelawny. His eyes move from my head down to my toes. I can actually  _ feel _ the disdain coming off him. He doesn't greet me with words or his hand, and I'm not that upset about it. Jerk. "What can I do for you fine gentlemen today?"

Trelawny slaps a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "We're here to get my friend here fitted for a suit."

The clerk nods and walks over to a side of the room, the three of us following behind him. He opens a door, gesturing for us to walk through. Trelawny and Arthur go first, but when I go to follow them I suddenly find an arm in my path. I stop, looking up to see that the clerk is blocking my way. 

"Men only, past this point."

_ Men only? _ It's not like they're walking into a changing room. Is this because I'm wearing  _ pants? _ Telling by the slight curl of his lip as his eyes glance down at my legs I can confirm my theory.

What a jerk.

"Hey now--" Arthur starts walking back towards the two of us, noticing that I'm no longer behind them. 

"It's fine." I say dryly, glaring at the clerk. He gives me an unimpressed look in return. "I'll just go to some other shop and look around. I have money that can be spent somewhere better."

"Lily, you don't have to go." Arthur argues, giving me a look that's pleading for me not to leave him here with Trelawny and the jerk. 

"We'd be more than happy to take our services elsewhere." Trelawny adds, sending a look at the clerk that makes the man begin to perspire at the thought of losing a sale.

"No, I'm really okay." I hold up my hands, backing away. If this is the first place that Trelawny thought to bring Arthur for a suit then they must be good. I don't want to start any trouble, so I'll just leave them to it. "I'll just look at the other stores around the area. I promise I won't go far."

Arthur doesn't seem exactly happy with the thought, and at this moment in time I'm a little glad I didn't tell him what Charles told me earlier. He seems to enjoy Trelawny and I get the feeling that he doesn't often buy that much stuff to make him feel...different. Better? I'm not sure. I don't always know what goes on in his head. But I'm not about to worry him and make him stop what he's doing just to babysit me. Besides, I'm sure that the O'Driscoll's that Charles told me about aren't even here anymore. Or if they are, I'm not going far and I'm sure it won't take Arthur and Trelawny long to get things done. 

"Just, be careful, alright?" 

I smile at him and nod reassuringly before exiting the tailor's and stepping back out into the blazing sun. People walk up and down the streets, some by themselves and then here and there is the occasional couple. The women are all wearing suave dresses from this time period with their hand in the crook of a man's arm, dressed to the nine's. A delicate umbrella rests on her shoulder, protecting their untanned skin from the sun's rays. 

Looking down at my own self I notice that a few things about me  _ have _ changed since I first arrived here all those months ago. My hair is longer, now past my shoulder blades and in desperate need of a cut. I normally keep it pretty short, it's just easier to manage and doesn't get in the way of my face as much. Though, majority of the time I have it in a pony tail or even braided as it is now. My skin is darker, not nearly as tan as the men in camp but I'm no longer the same girl from back home who was only exposed to the light from her phone. 

Man, I miss my phone. 

A shop a few windows down catches my eye. There are two dresses in the windows, fancy just like the ones the women walking around are wearing. I push the door open, stepping in and immediately feeling more welcome than I did at the tailor's. It's maybe a little cooler since this shop is in the shade, and it smells  _ way _ nicer than some sweaty men's shop. 

Okay, so maybe I'm a little upset about being looked down upon by the tailor. 

"Good afternoon miss!" A bright voice greets me. A woman a little shorter than my height pushes her way through the mannequins until she's standing in front of me. She's young, maybe a few years younger than I am and though she seems a little reserved she also has a very...open aura around her. She has long, wavy, blonde hair that hangs down past her shoulders. Which, after glancing at it is kind of surprising because of how hot it is outside. She's wearing a wine red shirt with a white cardigan and a black long skirt. It looks like a warm outfit, so I can only be impressed at the fact that she hasn't passed out from the heat yet. Then again, she's inside and most of the women outside seem to be doing fine. 

I smile brightly at her, surprised to find myself a little excited to get to know this person. 

"My name is Kylie," she introduces herself, gesturing to the store with open hands, "and I own this little shop."

I raise a brow. "You own it?"

Her expression morphs into one of slight confusion. "Yes?"

I raise a hand to let her know I mean no harm. "You're just very young to have your own shop, it seems."

She relaxes. "Oh. Yeah, it's mine. Was a friend of mine's, but when she passed away she gave it to me. So for the past few months I've been trying to figure out how to run this on my own. Took a while but I think I'm starting to get the hang of things."

Something stirs in the back of my mind but I can't quite place my finger on it. Something about Kylie just... is off. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it's definitely there.

"I'm glad to hear that. And you said your name was Kylie?"

She nods. "Yes ma'am. Kylie Carnahan at your service."

Carnahan? Kylie Carnahan? Kylie isn't exactly a name that's popular for girls in this time period, let alone popular for anyone at all. And the way she talks is... very proper. 

"You don't seem to have an accent from around here, Miss Carnahan."

Her mouth twitches. "Wasn't born here. Besides, the same could be said about you, Miss...?"

"Lily. Lily Edwards." I extend my hand out to her and she shakes it without another thought. 

"So, Miss Edwards--"

"--please call me Lily. I'm not the biggest fan of all this formality."

She gives me a slight grin. "As long as you call me Kylie."

"Sounds good to me."

She looks down at my pants and shirt. "Interesting clothing choice. Not many women around here brave enough to wear those."

I shrug, moving past her to look at one of the dresses against the wall. The material is silky beneath my touch. "I don't really care that much about other people's opinions when it comes to me for most things."

She hums, walking up beside me and smoothing a dress's skirt. "So, is there a reason that you stumbled into my shop or did you just want to escape from the heat?"

"The dresses you have displayed in the window caught my eye. My boyfriend is getting fitted for a suit right now and I decided to take a look around."

She raises a brow. "Boyfriend? Do I know the man?"

I laugh, shaking my head and moving on to the next dress. "Most likely not. He's not from around here."

"If he's getting a suit then surely you need a dress?"

I sigh. "No, he's going to some party in a few days where a bunch of important people are going to be and I don't exactly look like I'm ready for a party right now."

I startle when I feel a gentle hand being placed on my arm. I look over to see her giving me a concerned look. 

"Lily, is...is your boyfriend  _ hurting _ you? I noticed you seem to be a little bruised. You can tell me."

My eyes become the size of dinner plates. I shake my head rapidly, waving my hands. "Oh, no no no no. No. No, I promise, Arthur is not hurting me. He would never hurt me. This," I say, pointing to my face, "was done by someone else. Arthur made sure to take care of the man who did this. I'm flattered, but I'm fine. I promise."

She frowns suddenly. "Arthur, huh? What's his last name?"

I blanche, not expecting to be questioned about him. "Um, it's Callahan." Probably best to give his fake last name in case she knows him from Blackwater.

She freezes, the skirt of a dress clenched tightly in her hand. A silence stretches between us for a few moments. 

"Kylie?"

She snaps out of whatever stupor she was in, smiling up at me. "Yes? Sorry, I zoned out for a second."

_ She  _ zoned _ out? _

"Are you okay?"

She laughs, brushing me off. "I'm fine. But I think that you should get a dress. Now, I know you said you don't think you should be going to this party, but I beg to differ. From the way you defended your...Arthur he obviously is important to you, so you should be there and support him. Follow me." 

She grabs my hand and leads me in the back, shoving me into one of the dressing rooms. 

Surprisingly, looking for a dress with Kylie is fun. Though I protested at first, she convinced me to at least try some on in case I change my mind. She was quick in taking my measurements so she could find some in my size, and some that weren't but could possibly be mended to fit me better. 

After a good hour, I step out in a dress that Kylie had shoved in my arms a few minutes prior. Telling by the smile on her face it must look pretty darn good on me. And when I step forward to look in the mirror, even I have to admit that I look a  _ little _ good. 

Okay,  _ really _ good. 

The dress is a style from this time but it's elegant enough that it has a mood from my time. 

I love it.

"I designed this one myself," Kylie says proudly, pulling the hem of my dress out so it's not bunched up. 

"It's beautiful. I think I want this one."

She smiles, standing to her feet and brushing off her skirt. "I'll go ring it up while you take it off and then it'll be ready by tomorrow for Angelo's party."

I freeze. "What?"

But she's already walking away and out of the dressing room. 

"Did you say Angelo? As in Angelo Bronte?"

I never mentioned him. I never told her what party or when. 

_ How did she know? _


	30. Backbones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter? Next one will be about the party! Hope you're ready for a wild ride! That will (fingers crossed) be posted on Sunday. I'm going to New York on Saturday so I'll be short one day where I can write but I'll try my best!
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I love you guys!
> 
> Also will Rockstar please just release the soundtrack already thnx.

I get out of the dress quickly, being careful not to dirty or rip it. I put my other clothes on quickly, stumbling out of the dressing room as I try to put my boots back on. 

"Kylie, kylie," I say quickly, moving to where she's currently standing behind the counter, pulling up my total bill. She doesn't look at me as her fingers clack on the numbers of the register. I place one hand on the counter and she pauses, her eyes flickering over to my sudden intrusion. 

"Sorry, I zoned out again." She laughs, continuing to ring up my bill. 

"Kylie, how did you know I was talking about Angelo?"

She pauses again, lifting her head to blink owlishly at me. "Angelo Bronte throwing a party has been news for the past few weeks, Lily. I figured if you were going to any party it would be that one. Lucky guess?"

She seems so nonchalant that I don't feel really uneasy anymore. Maybe she's right. I mean, obviously this Bronte guy is prominent in the Saint Denis area so the locals probably know when he's getting ready to throw a party, but still. I can't help but be suspicious. 

"Okay...I guess. Sorry, I'm just a little paranoid lately. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

She waves me off. "No problem. Now, are you going to be paying for this dress at once or with multiple payments? Oh, and when you pick the dress up bring that Arthur of yours. I'd love to meet him."

The comment about Arthur throws me off for a few seconds, but I don't see any hidden motive in her words so I merely nod. I tell her I can do it at once and pull out my cash, trying not to think on how it's getting low and how much the dress costs. She takes care of it quickly, reassuring me that it will definitely be ready tomorrow and then with a goodbye I exit her shop and step out back in the streets. I glance back at the place once, making a mental note to ask her some questions later when I pick up the dress. 

With so many thoughts running through my head I almost forget to stop by the doctor's to pick up some medicine for Lenny. After swinging in and getting the things I need while ignoring the nasty looks from men along the way, I walk back to the tailor's and slip inside the doors to see if Arthur and Trelawny are done yet. 

The front of the shop is empty. I can hear chattering coming from the room in the back so they must not be done yet. I wander around, looking at the different styles of suits and tuxes. Some of them actually look really nice and I can even imagine Arthur in some of them. 

"--feel stupid, Josiah." Arthur's drawl reaches my ear and I turn to see the three men walking back out. 

Arthur looks so  _ good _ . 

He's dressed in a black suit, white button-up shirt exposed through the coat and sleek black pants stretching down his legs. His hair is mussed up from wearing his hat, but besides that he looks like he's ready to go to an opera or something even fancier.

I let out a whistle, not even trying to hide the way I'm so obviously checking him out right now. The men come to a stop and when I finally reach his face I see that Arthur is very faintly blushing. 

"Damn, Trelawny, you picked a good one."

"Ladies shouldn't cuss." The tailor scowls at me, moving around to adjust Arthur's collar. "If you ask me ladies should be  _ seen _ and not heard."

Arthur's hand suddenly reaches up and wraps around the tailor's wrist, stopping him from touching him further. 

"See, I  _ didn't _ ask and this  _ lady _ knows more things than you could ever begin to imagine. You'll want to hear what she says. I'll ask you nicely this time to be more polite to her, but I won't ask twice." Arthur's voice is low and the tone he takes is threatening. The tailor stares up at him in slight fear, as if just now realizing that the man he's talking to is not one to be messed with. 

"Uh, Arthur, why don't you go get changed and Miss Lily and I will wait out here?"

Arthur glances at Trelawny briefly before looking at me as he drops the tailor's hand. He sighs, nodding at me before turning to walk back to the changing room. "I'll be right back."

Once Arthur is gone and the three of us are alone Trelawny turns to the tailor, getting right up in his face and pointing a finger in his chest. "It's one thing to be on the barbarians bad side, but good sir, believe me when I say that you do  _ not _ want to be on my bad side. So I suggest that you straighten up or I will not only ruin your career but I will also let that man in there have ten minutes alone with you in this store. Understood?"

The tailor swallows nervously, nodding his head frantically. "My apologies, miss. I didn't mean nothin' by it."

I cross my arms and purse my lips. "Mhm." I wave him off and turn back to Trelawny. "It looks like you found a good suit for my man."

Trelawny clears his throat and straightens his tie. "Yes, well, took a bit longer than expected. Your 'man' is very particular about what he wears."

I smile at that. "I wouldn't imagine him any other way."

While Trelawny and the tailor sort out the suit, I wait for Arthur to come back out. It's not more than five minutes later that he walks out, back in his boots, work pants and button up shirt. He walks to my side and places his hand under my chin, tilting it up so he can give me a quick kiss. 

"Let's go before someone sees you two. It's indecent in public." Trelawny scolds, but I can tell he's mainly joking. 

We exit the shop, walking back the way we came to where we hitched our horses. Josiah says goodbye along the way and Arthur and I walk off with his hand around my waist to where Winston and Chewie are. Once I have all my stuff packed away in the saddlebag, Arthur and I mount our horses and head back towards Shady Belle. 

"All right," Arthur finally says after a few minutes, "somethin's on your mind."

I breathe out of my nose a little harsher than normal. "These past few days have just been a little hectic, is all."

Arthur nods, slowing down Winston as I follow suit. He pulls his horse alongside mine and I feel him looking at me. 

"Do you..." Arthur clears his throat, gripping his reigns tightly in his hands, "do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?" Arthur croaks the words out, wincing to himself. 

I look up and over at him with confusion. "What?"

Arthur shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, was tryin' to make you feel better but I ain't too good with all that flirtin'."

That does bring a smile to my face. "Arthur, you've already got me. You don't need to  _ flirt _ with me."

He looks over at me with a mischievous look in his eye. "May not be good at it, but I know you women like it. So I'll do it for you."

I shake my head in good-nature, appreciating his gesture more than he probably knows. 

Between dealing with those men with Tilly, Lenny getting hurt, and this mysterious Kylie person popping up I can feel myself getting ready to reach my limit. Maybe that girl was right--I should go to Bronte's party. Try to enjoy myself. I'm aware that the reason Dutch and the others are going is to sniff out some possible money to rob, but if the mayor is going to be there then there will at least be some  _ good _ food and drink. 

Fuck it, I already bought the dress so I'll go.

Do I tell the others I'm going? Maybe Dutch won't like it. I know Micah definitely wouldn't like the idea of me going along, but when have I ever cared what that man thinks?

I'll just meet Trelawny later on and go with him. I'll surprise Arthur. It'll be fine.

* * *

 

"How's Lenny doing?" I ask, stepping into Shady Belle and walking over to where Miss Grimshaw is seated beside him. "I brought some stuff back for him. We can mix some of it in a drink and the rest can be injected."

Miss Grimshaw places her current stitching work on her lap and looking at the boy with a sigh. "He's been in 'n out of sleep since you've been gone. Ain't been awake for longer than five minutes at a time."

I set my things down and place the back of my hand on his forehead, feeling for a temperature. "He's not that hot, at least not enough to be worrisome. If we get this medicine in him it will help a lot."

I squeeze out the excess water from a rag and wipe it across his forehead, trying to cool him down. He mumbles something under his breath but it's unintelligible. I find a clean needle and quickly get it ready, having Miss Grimshaw pull down the blanket lying over top of him so that I can inject the medicine directly into his arm. Once it's done we settle him back down, adjusting his pillow beneath his head and watching as he falls from a light sleep into deep unconsciousness. 

Miss Grimshaw hums, brushing one hand through the boy's curly hair. "If I didn't know any better Miss Edwards, I would suggest you was a witch."

I let out a nervous laugh, shaking my head. "I--no. I just know what I'm working with and what to do in...situations like these."

She nods, folding her arms in front of her. "Mighty handy to have you here with us."

I want to feel good at what she says, but then I think back to all of the trouble that has happened these past few months because of me. People have gotten hurt, people in this camp have been pitted against one another, and worst of all...

God, how could I forget about that man. The man whose life I  _took_. I can feel my good mood from earlier begin to plummet. I haven't thought about that whole incident in weeks, which in turn just makes me feel even  _worse_ because how could I possibly forget about doing something like that? How could I wipe it from my mind the ultimate crime that I have committed: that I _killed_ a man. 

"I, uh, I can watch over Lenny now, Miss Grimshaw. Why don't you go take a break?"

She picks up her stitching and walks towards the door. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on 'im. Just holler if ya need anythin'." She pauses at the door, glancing back at me. "And honey? It's about time you just started callin' me Susan. Most the others call me Grimshaw when they know they're in trouble." 

I nod once, feeling a tiny party of me lighten at her words. But the feeling quickly dissipates after a few seconds. Once she's gone I sit down in the chair she vacated, placing my head in my hands and taking a deep breath. My thoughts inside my head are spinning around, making it hard for me to get a grasp on one thing at a time. 

* * *

I'm in the middle of cleaning Lenny's wound an hour later when Dutch and Bill walk in, conversing among themselves. I cover the area back up and make sure he's still sleeping before acknowledging the others. 

"What brings you to this part of town?" I ask, wiping my hands off on a towel. 

Dutch smiles at my tiny joke. "Wanted to check up on the boy. Looks like he's in good hands."

"He'll be fine. He's just going to be sleeping for a while. But when he is back on his feet," I give Dutch a pointed look, "don't make him do anything too strenuous. Like, say, sending him on a dangerous hunting trip in the mountains?" 

Dutch looks down at the ground, shaking a finger at me and nodding his head. "Yes, yes. I know what you're getting at and completely agree. That was a mistake on my part and won't happen again."

"I should hope not." I mutter, sitting back down in my chair. Dutch walks up to the table and places a hand on Lenny's head. Bill watches from behind, not saying anything or making a move. Dutch lets out a sigh, shaking his head as he pulls back the blanket to look at Lenny's side. Do I take this moment to talk to Dutch about one of the problems I'm facing right now? Maybe if I can deal with one thing I'll feel better and I can get a better grasp on things. I should just get it over with.

"Dutch," I ask, briefly glancing at Bill, "can I talk to you about something? Alone?"

Bill's face begins to turn down into a scowl. "Got some secrets you don't want the rest of us to hear?"

"No," I stand to my feet and hold out my hands in an attempt to calm him, "no, I promise it's not that, Bill. Just a few minutes, please?"

Bill rolls his eyes, turning around and stomping out of the living room. Dutch seats himself down on the rocking chair in the corner, the wood creaking beneath his weight. He takes his hat off and places it in his lap, giving me his full attention. 

I briefly glance at Lenny, the sight of him lying there so hurt giving me the courage to have this conversation with Dutch. "So, I had a talk earlier and found out some information."

Dutch raises a brow. "Information?"

I nod. "Yes, um, some information. I need you to be completely honest with me, Dutch." I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "When you had Lenny go to Rhodes, was it for something for me? Was it about  _me?"_

The small smile that Dutch had been wearing slowly slips off his face. "What exactly did you hear?"

"If you heard my name mentioned among a certain group of people who have been giving you and I  _both_ trouble--"

"Lily," Dutch interrupts my mini rant, "I'm going to assume that Charles told you about overhearing the O'Driscolls, since Lenny is currently unable to talk to you himself." At my silence he nods to himself, confirming what he already knows. "I asked the man not to say anything, but I guess another one of your strengths is getting people to talk about things they shouldn't."

I make a face. "You know, Miss Grimshaw just compared me to a witch and now I feel like you're doing the same."

That does make him laugh, releasing some of the tension that began building between us since he sat in that chair. "I may not know everything about you, but I don't think calling you a 'witch' would be correct." He crosses his one leg on top of the other. "It is true, yes, that I overheard your name being mentioned by a couple of degenerate men. I asked Charles and Lenny to go check it out, but I didn't tell them to get involved. I was just looking out for you. I even made sure not to mention it to Arthur in case he did something more rash than what I had Charles and Lenny do."

I appreciate the fact that he kept this from Arthur considering not even  _I_ told Arthur about it, even though I had a chance to when we were riding back from Saint Denis. Dutch has known the man longer than me and so he's more than aware of how Arthur protects his people, and at least on this front we can agree. 

"See, I have a bone to pick with you about that." I tell him.

He gives me a slightly confused look. "A  _bone_ to pick?"

I nod. "Dutch, I don't like a couple of things. First of all, I don't like that you didn't come to  _me_ and tell  _me_ about what you heard. Considering it involves  _me_ I would have appreciated being told that I was the topic of conversation between a group of men whom we don't exactly get along with." Dutch nods at my words, and I can tell he's agreeing with me. 

"An oversight on my part. Won't happen again."

"You're right, it won't happen again. Because if you hear my name and think it's being used in a danger-related conversation you will tell  _me_. Not someone else. Me. I mean, come  _on_. Instead of coming to me about this and telling me so I know to watch out for it and stay close to camp, you instead have Lenny and Charles go to Rhodes to play spy and Lenny gets fucking hurt. Not cool, Dutch." I stand to my feet, pulling back Lenny's blanket and pointing one finger down at where the blood-stained bandage is wrapped around his side. "This happened because you went your own route instead of doing the smart thing and coming to me. Don't  _ever_ make someone risk their life for me again, you hear me?"

The longer I talk the more Dutch's face begins to pull down in a frown. When I insult his intelligence he uncrosses his own legs and stands to his feet as well, trying to assert his dominance by towering over me. 

"Now, Miss Lily, I understand that you're upset--"

"Upset?  _Upset?_ You think me having to patch Lenny up after he went out because you told him to makes me upset? No, not at all. I'm furious, Dutch. Livid, actually."

"All right now," Dutch's easy tone from earlier is gone now. He's ready for an argument. "I heard your name mentioned. I thought it best for someone to get a look and make sure that the threat was filled of empty promises. I saw something, made a call, and that was that. I do not take kindly to being called  _stupid_ , Miss Edwards."

"I never called you stupid."

"You implied. That was more than enough for me." He walks around the table that's separating us and over to my side, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Don't interrupt me this time."

I give him a petulant look but nod, giving him the go-ahead to speak.

"Lily," he says quietly, his voice low and understanding, "I know you're upset. Angry. But you need to understand that what happened with Lenny was not your fault. The boy wanted to go. They both could have told me no, that they weren't going to do it, and that would have been that. But they didn't. They didn't even question my reasoning for wanting them to go after I told them you were involved." He places both hands on my shoulders now and forces me to face him. "You are important to us. We don't let anything happen to our own. I already feel bad enough as it is with what happened to you and Miss Jackson. I should have known about those men she used to run with and been watching out for them, but I wasn't. Miss Grimshaw was nice enough to deal with that with Arthur's help. But  _you_ are important. Don't ever doubt that."

I feel my eyes begin to burn with all the emotion that's bubbling up inside of me. It's one thing for the women of camp to tell me this, or even Arthur; but when Dutch says it I know it means something else. Dutch is the unofficial leader of this group of people. If he approves of me then that means I'm in it for the long-haul. 

"Thank you, Dutch, I appreciate it. I really do." I take one of his hands off my shoulder and hold it between my own. "But I'm serious. No more secret missions like these. I'll tell you what I told Charles: if someone ended up dead because of me I don't know what I would do with myself. Please, just tell me and  _only_ me next time, if there ever is a next time."

Dutch looks down at his hand in mine for a few seconds, obviously troubled by my words. Then he nods, letting out a big breath. "I will. But don't expect us to not want to help you, Lily. You're with a group of people who have trouble taking 'no' for an answer."

I look at him wryly. "I know you mean good things by that saying but not being able to take 'no' for an answer isn't always a good thing."

"--utch, Bill's out here complainin' 'bout bein' kicked out." Arthur grumbles as he walks inside the house to the living room, Bill no more than two steps behind. When he looks up and sees Dutch and I he stops so fast in his tracks that Bill walks straight into his back. 

"The hell, Morgan?" Bill complains, stepping around him and casting him a severe side-eye. 

Arthur looks between Dutch and I cautiously, his eyes zoning in on our joined hands with a frown. I take my hand back and walk over to Arthur's side, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

"What's goin' on in here?" He asks slowly, stepping closer to me almost instinctively. 

"Lily and I were just discussing young Lenny. Shame what happened to him."

I nod, going along with Dutch's diversion. "He'll be fine in a couple weeks. Just give him time to rest and more medicine."

Arthur nods slowly, going along with our excuses but I can tell he doesn't really believe us. This is going to be fun to deal with later. 

"I asked Mary-Beth to come in and watch him for a while, give you a break and get some dinner."

I nod, allowing him to steer me out of the house to leave Bill and Dutch with Lenny for now. On our way over to Pearson I see Mary-Beth walking up the steps to do just what Arthur told me. It's nice to have reliable people surrounding you.

"I don't have ta worry about what was goin' on back there, do I?" He asks me quietly, his hand on my back a comforting presence. 

"No, Arthur. Everything's fine." I smile up at him, as strenuous as it may be he seems to buy it. At least for now, anyway. 

After Arthur and I have had our fill of Peasron's old stew we go back up to his room, but not until I stop in with Mary-Beth and check on Lenny one more time. She tells me that her and Tilly are going to sleep in the living room with him just in case something happens and that they'll get me if I'm needed. It's nice of them to do that since I haven't really had a good night's sleep in two days. 

"You remember that talk we had a while ago?"

Arthur is currently shucking his shirt and pants off while I'm still working on the buttons of my shirt. When I don't answer right away he looks up at me expectantly. 

"The one we had after Sadie left?"

"That's the one."

"Then yes, I remember."

"So then you recall about how you'd promise to tell me if you was ever unhappy?"

I stop at the last button of my shirt, planting my hands on my hips and giving Arthur my full attention. "Come out with it, Morgan."

He straightens up, now standing in front of me in half his long johns, the top half hanging down by his legs so that I now have a nice view of his bare chest. "I'm askin' you if you're unhappy, Lily."

I frown. "Arthur, what has happened in the past couple of hours that would give you that idea?"

He shrugs, stepping out of the rest of the long johns. "Well, you was mighty quiet on the ride back from Saint Denis and then you had that talk with Dutch and got all hush-hush when Bill 'n I walked in the room. Darlin'," he walks over to me and grabs a hold of my hands delicately, "I don't want anythin' to make you unhappy. If somethin' happened that you had to go to Dutch about but not me, then I can't really say I blame you but I hope you'd at least give me a chance to do somethin'."

I can almost feel Arthur's self-depreciating comments coming out of his body and begin to wrap themselves around him, so I do my best to fend them off by stepping forward and wrapping my arms around him, naked as he may be. He responds in kind immediately, his strong arms holding me close to his chest as if he's afraid I'll slip away. 

"Arthur, I'm happy with you. I promise that if that changes I'll tell you. What I talked to Dutch about was nothing for you to worry about, all right? It was about Lenny, I promise." Though I may be leaving out a few details, what I talked to Dutch about  _was_ mainly Lenny so I'm not technically lying. Deep down inside I feel bad knowing that in order to justify myself I have to think of a loop-hole but then I remind myself it's also for Arthur's best interests.  

Arthur doesn't say anything, merely plants a kiss on the top of my head before releasing me and walking over to our tiny bed. He crawls under the covers, laying on his side and watching as I change out of my clothes into something more appropriate for sleep. Once I'm finished he holds up the blankets for me and I slip underneath, cuddling up close to his chest as he once more holds me in his embrace. I drift off to sleep with the feel of his hands rubbing comfortingly up and down my spine.

Not exactly a bad way to end a day.

 


	31. Night On the Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I saw Wicked yesterday in New York and it was SO GOOD. WOW. A fun tidbit about myself is that I love musicals. Wicked was the tenth show I've seen on Broadway. 
> 
> Pretty soon some real drama is going to go down, and I don't think you guys are ready for it. Next update will be out on Wednesday so stay tuned!
> 
> Question: If you had to choose between Bill, Charles, Lenny or Javier who would you pick? I personally love Charles.

_"It's about time that you showed up," Cam scoffs, pushing the doors open for me so that I don't have to touch them. Once inside he walks over to get in position and I inspect the tree to make sure that I have all the necessary tools._

_"Maverick called me into her office so I was late getting to the prep room--which in turn made me late getting to everything else." I explain, my eyes scanning over all of my instruments. I notice that there seems to be a gaping hole on the tray, like something was removed._

_"Cam, what was here before?" I ask, looking over my shoulder. He shrugs, going back to his business. I wave it off, noting that everything else I need is there, so I'm not sure what it is that we're missing._

_I walk over to the operating table, pulling down the sheet over the patient's face and letting out a scream. I stumble backwards over my own feet, nearly falling to the floor in the process. There, lying on the table, is the O'Driscoll that I killed, a gaping hole in his throat. There's fresh blood seeping out of the wound and his eyes are looking in my direction, blinking without actually seeing._

_"Cam!" I look up at my friend in fear, watching as he turns around with a similar wound in his neck. The crimson liquid is running down the front of his shirt, but he acts unaffected. He points down at my hand with a sorrowful expression. I glance down and find the knife--the one I used on the O'Driscoll--held tightly in my right hand. I gasp and drop it to the floor immediately._

_"Why'd you do it, Lily?_ How _could you do it?" Cam's tone is sad and disappointed._

_My hands begin to shake. No, no no no no no..._

_"Cam, quick, we have to...your neck...!"_

_Cam suddenly falls to the floor, a puddle of blood quickly surrounding him. I look down when I feel a weight in my hand, finding the knife there again. When I look over at the tray, I notice that the knife would fit perfectly in the missing spot._

_"You did this." The words spill from the O'Driscoll's mouth, filling the operating room with his horrible voice that's been ruined by the damage done to his voice box._

_"Murderer." Cam's voice joins in, wrapping around my head and threatening to suffocate me._

_"Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Mur--"_

* * *

I sit up in bed suddenly, trying to get my heart to stop racing. I take deep breaths, my vision slowly starting to become less blurry. 

_"--ily! Lily!"_ Each call of my name is enunciated with a rapid knocking at the door, which I quickly determine as the thing that woke me up.  _"It's about Lenny!"_

That has me scrambling out of bed faster than I've moved in a while, hurrying over to the door. I fling it open to find Mary-Beth standing there, her hand suspended in the air and ready to knock again. There's a smile on her face which throws me off, considering her tone of voice implied that something was  _wrong_ , and I get the feeling that since she seems so happy it's not as bad as I first thought. 

"He's awake!" She says excitedly, grinning at me. 

I slump against the door frame, all the tension that managed to build up inside of my body melting away at once. "So, there's nothing wrong? He's not vomiting or bleeding out?"

She looks at me with confusion. "No?"

I sigh, standing back up and beginning to shut the door. "Good, good. I'll be down in a few minutes. Try to give him some water, if possible. He's going to be dehydrated." I shut the door and take a few steps into the room, covering my face with my hands as I inhale deeply. 

_Get it together, Lily._

"What was that all about?" Arthur's groggy voice breaks up my small moment. I drop my hands to find him sitting up partially in the bed, still half asleep. He's looking at me through half-lidded eyes, a yawn escaping his lips. 

"It's nothing, just go back to sleep." I tell him, going over and pushing him back down. He doesn't struggle at all and settles into the pillow once more. I pull the blanket up to his shoulders and kiss his forehead before getting dressed in daytime clothing. By the time I'm ready to walk out the door less than ten minutes later he's once more snoring away. I shut the door quietly behind me and head down the stairs to the living room. 

Light chatter reaches my ear, and when I enter the living room I see that Tilly and Mary-Beth are doting over Lenny. He's still lying down on the table and he looks very tired, but his eyes are open and he's smiling at the women. 

"Look who decided to return to the land of the living," I say softly, walking over to Lenny's side. This garners their attention. While Tilly and Mary-Beth talk to once another I lift the blanket and cloth covering his side. Lenny inhales sharply at the movement and I pause, my eyes flickering up to him to make sure he's not too bothered by me touching his side. 

"How does it look, Doc?"

I carefully put the cloth back and pull the blanket up. "You were worse yesterday, but some of the swelling has gone down and the bleeding has all but stopped." I pick up the glass of water Mary-Beth brought in and step up closer to his head. "Do you want a drink?"

He nods and very carefully I help him to sit up enough to sip some of the water. When he's finished I lay him back down, and though he's quiet I can see on his face with all the grimacing how in pain he truly is. It's moments like these that remind me how Lenny truly is just a boy yet. 

"Ladies, can you go have Pearson fix a small bowl of stew for Lenny? Preferably something closer to broth than anything that would require him to digest solid food right now." They seem to pick up on my hidden motive for the  _both_ of them needing to get the food instead of just one person, but they don't argue with me, just go along with it. Once they're gone from the house I take the wet cloth from the basin and begin to wipe it across his forehead to help cool him down. 

"You're in a lot of trouble, young man."

Lenny smiles weakly up at me. "Can I ask what for?"

"You know  _exactly_ what for." I tell him seriously, but leave it at that. I'll have more than enough time to yell at him when he's feeling better. 

"You, uh, you're startin' to look more like yourself." Lenny coughs out, wincing at the movement. His voice is small and weak. I should let him rest soon. 

"Oh, this?" I ask, gesturing to my face. "I'm feeling better, that's for sure. Give yourself another week and you'll be where I'm at now." 

He closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smile briefly before his face slackens. "Am I supposed to be this tired?"

I prepare another needle for him, carefully injecting it into his arm. "You will be for a while. What happened to you--pardon my pun--took a good chunk out of you." 

Lenny offers me a weak laugh in turn, and within a few minutes he's asleep once more. He's been out for the past two days so I find that I'm actually a little surprised that he woke up after such a short period, considering what happened and how much blood he lost. I estimate that by this time next week he'll be able to at least sit with the others, as long as he doesn't have to expel too much energy. Hopefully he'll be awake in a while so he can eat that food from Pearson. His energy levels are going to be seriously low if he doesn't get some real food in him soon. 

It's nice to let the doctor side of me out every once in a while. 

I walk back up the steps to Arthur's room, wanting to go back to sleep now that I've been able to check on Lenny. When I open the door Arthur is still in the same position as when I left him. I shut the door behind me and walk over to the bed, not bothering to change before slipping back under the blanket. I lay on my side and rest my head on Arthur's chest, letting out a deep breath. Even in his sleep Arthur moves to fit me, one of his hands fumbling around to grab a hold of my waist before settling back down. 

I close my eyes, ready to slip back to sleep before something catches my attention. With my head resting on Arthur's bare chest I can hear the inner mechanisms of his body faintly. There's a...hiccup or something similar right in his chest. I tilt my head up and look at his face, trying to detect if there's anything bothering him while he's sleeping but I don't notice anything. He's breathing normally and the snoring is nothing unusual. Maybe I'm just overreacting. I recall him having a tickle when he came back from when he was kidnapped by the O'Driscolls, but I thought that would have gone away a while ago. 

As I lay back down and settle against his side I make a mental note to ask him about it when we're both more awake. We can both wait that long. Besides, I'm sure it's not even a real problem.

* * *

Arthur is gone when I wake up a second time and like his presence all thought of asking him about his lungs is gone. I climb out of bed and once more make myself look presentable in the tiny mirror he has before going downstairs. Karen is now taking a turn of watching over Lenny, humming to herself as she sits with one of Sean's shirts in her hands. She waves at me for a moment when I get to the living room before going back to her business. I take note of the empty bowl sitting on an unoccupied chair and connect the dots that Lenny must have eaten at some point when I was sleeping. Good. Hopefully he'll be awake for longer periods soon so he can eat more. 

I walk over to where Javier is seated on a mat under his tent, working on one of the strings of his guitar. He looks up at me with a smile, the brim of his hat shading majority of his face from the sun. "Hey, chica. How's Lenny doin'?"

I nod, leaning a tiny bit against one of the poles stuck in the ground. "He'll be fine in a few days. I'm sure he'd welcome some friendly faces, but wait until tomorrow to see him, yeah? He's still pretty tired today."

Javier nods, twisting one of the knobs on the neck and plucking the string. When it doesn't make the sound he wants he frowns before twisting it the tiniest bit more. It must be right because when he plucks the string a second time he nods his head. "Poor kid."

I nod along with his words. "Do you know where Arthur and them went?"

Javier gestures with his head over towards Dutch's tent. "They're riding out at 12 to get ready for the mayor's party tonight." He looks up at me in contemplation. "Are you going with 'em?"

I nod slowly, kicking the dirt at my feet. "I think I am, but I'm not riding in with them. Do me a favor and don't say anything? I think I want to surprise Arthur."

Javier gets a mischievous look in his eye and he grins. "Secrets, eh? Secret is my middle name,  _Lirio_."

I raise a brow at him. "My spanish is spotty at best, Javier. What's 'lirio'?"

Javier lets out a small chuckle. "It means  _lily_ , Lily."

I make an 'oh' sound, nodding. "Makes sense. Wish I knew more Spanish. I feel like it would be fun to have secret conversations with you in front of everyone."

"I'm surprised. The others get angry if I speak Spanish so I don't do it in front of them. Well, I do in front of Micah because I like seeing him get frustrated at not being able to understand me." He sends a wink my way, his fingers finding a random chord and strumming it gently so the beautiful sound floats off with the breeze. "You ever want to learn just let me know. I'd be more than happy to teach you."

I laugh, waving him off. "It's a little late for me to learn another language, but I appreciate the offer.  _Hasta luego, amigo._ "

I hear him laughing behind me as I walk away.  _"Chao, lirio!"_

Just before I can walk into Dutch's tent the men themselves emerge. Arthur comes out first, then Hosea, Dutch, and Bill. Hosea and Dutch smile and greet me with me doing the same. Bill merely nods his head in my direction before walking over to where his tent is located. Though it's not actual words it also wasn't  _hatred_ so I'm going to call this a win for me. Arthur walks over to my side, taking his hat off his head and brushing the dirt off the top. 

"See you finally decided to wake up." He jokes, smirking at me. 

I scoff, holding a hand to my chest. "Me? If I remember correctly I was up before you and  _then_ came back to bed. You're the lazy one, Mr. Morgan."

He closes his eyes briefly. "There ya go again with that 'Mr. Morgan' talk. I didn't make you mad or nothin' did I?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "No, I'm just teasing you. I hear that you're getting ready to leave?"

He nods, turning towards the house and beginning to walk. He looks over his shoulder to make sure I'm following before continuing. "Dutch wants us to get 'proper baths' in town before we go. What's wrong with the tub here?"

I make a face. "Dutch is smart for having you guys do that. No offense, but the bathing system here isn't exactly fool-proof."

He looks down at me briefly. "What's that s'pposed ta mean?"

I grimace. "It means that on a good day you  _don't_ smell like horse shit that's been sitting in the sun for a good hour."

Arthur frowns, looking down at the ground as we continue walking. He stretches his head down and smells himself. When we climb up the stairs to the house he stops, placing a hand on my shoulder as he then proceeds to sniff at my neck. I blush at the intimate action even though I know he doesn't mean it to be like that. He pulls back with a confused look on his face. 

"How the hell do you manage to smell so good then? I bathe regularly."

I clear my throat, looking out briefly to see if anyone noticed him do that. "We live in an area surrounded by a swamp, Arthur. You can't just bathe 'regularly' and expect to be clean. It's going to take more effort than that."

He scoffs, adjusting his belt on his hips. "I got better things to get done than to sacrifice more of my time for a longer bath."

He opens the door to the house and holds it for me. I walk inside, placing a hand on his chest briefly. "I know you're a hard working man. When I said you guys smelled bad I was mainly talking about Micah and Bill." I emphasize my point with a kiss to his cheek.

I head into the living room and over to Lenny. I wish we had something more comfortable than a simple blanket and pillow underneath him while he's laying on this table. I do my routine of checking his temperature and changing the dressing on his side while Arthur watches me work. He doesn't say anything, merely leans against the wall with one leg crossed and his arms folded over his chest. 

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?" I ask after a few minutes, tying the cloth tightly so that it won't move. I look up at him, finding a nameless expression on his face. 

"You're pretty good at that."

Both of my eyebrows raise. "I would hope so."

He hums, pushing off the wall and walking over to the stairs. His boots jingle beneath his feet, but he doesn't say any more. 

"What's on your mind, cowboy?" I ask him when he's halfway up. He pauses, feet on different steps. He looks down at me briefly.

"Jus' thinkin' about how I got to be so lucky." Then he continues on the way up and disappears from my view. My brain takes a few moments to mull over the unexpected compliments he's been giving me today, but I just push them into a corner of my mind and let them sit. And if I just so happen to wear a smile the rest of the time that I'm working on Lenny, well, no one's there to notice it. 

* * *

A few hours after Arthur and the others left to go get ready for the party tonight I tell Mary-Beth about what I'm planning on doing and ask her to do my hair. She's more than happy to do so and soon enough my hair is pinned up on the back of my head so that it's not touching my neck anymore. It's a relief to be able to feel the breeze there, especially with how humid it is in this area. She just did a simple twist up, adding in some braids since we didn't have time to put curlers in my hair and a curling iron isn't exactly a thing in this time. But when I look in the mirror and see it I'm impressed. It's...elegant. 

Maybe instead of a massage therapist I should have told her to become a beautician. 

I mount up on Chewie, riding off towards Saint Denis with a wave back at camp. Miss Grimshaw--or should I say  _Susan_ as she now insists I call her--told me that her and the other ladies would make sure Lenny was taken care of. I feel better about leaving now because I know Lenny is going to be okay since he woke up. And with those women watching after him? He'll be better than okay.

When I get to town and hitch Chewie, I make my way quickly to Kylie's dress shop, knowing that I only have about an hour until the party actually starts. I open the door, stepping inside and spotting the woman herself at the counter. Her head perks up from where it was buried in a book when the bell above the door jingles. Her face quickly lights up when she sees me and she slams the book shut, stepping out of the counter and making her way to me. 

"Lily!" She greets, focusing on my hair. "You look almost ready to go tonight. Just missing the dress." She looks behind me curiously, a tiny frown crossing her face momentarily before she smiles again. Almost as though it never happened. "I thought you were going to bring your boyfriend with you this time?"

I peer down at her, following as she walks into the back room. "No...I'm going to surprise him tonight. It wouldn't exactly work if I brought him here with me, now would it?"

She makes a disappointed sound. "Pity. I was looking forward to meeting him." 

Before I even have time to dwell on that comment she's shoving my dress into my hands and pushing me into a changing room. I slip the dress on quickly, calling for her to come in and do the buttons in the back. When she's done we get out of the changing room and I step in front of the mirror, holding my breath. 

"Gorgeous," Kylie says quietly, smiling gently at me. 

And standing there in front of that mirror, I kind of agree with her. Kylie's dress is gorgeous in and of itself. It's a midnight blue that reflects if in the light just right. The straps hang off my shoulders, my collar bones and neck bare.  It's tight all the way down to my belly button and then it flares out in a ball gown style. The dress is still long enough to cover my feet even with my boots on, which is a good thing considering I don't have any other footwear to wear to fancy Mayor's party. 

But with this dress and my hair done the way Mary-Beth has it...I can't wait to see Arthur. There's only light bruising on my face now so I don't think it will draw as much attention as I was originally fretting about. 

"So how are you getting there?" She asks, checking the dress over for any final things to change. 

Shit. I was supposed to find Trelawny earlier so that he could help me inside. Kylie must notice my change in demeanor because she steps forward, shifting from foot to foot in a faux innocent manner. 

"You know, I have an invitation to the party and nobody to go with..." 

I look at her with wide eyes. "Are you saying what I'm thinking?"

She grins. "Absolutely."

In a moment of gratitude I move forwards and hug her. "Thank you so much. You're helping me and I really appreciate it."

She returns the hug and after a few moments pulls away. "It's no problem. I wasn't even going to go, but I guess this is as good excuse as any for me to go out and mingle with some potential clients. There's only one way to keep this business open, right? Plus I get to finally meet this man of yours."

I pause, giving her a weird look. "Should I be concerned about your mild obsession with meeting my boyfriend?" My mind drifts back to my suspicion of her odd way of talking and just all around...different-ness. 

She laughs, shaking her head. "No, I promise that I just want to see the man that managed to snag a woman as wonderful as you."

We move quickly after that. While she changes into a dress of her own I pack up my clothing and stuff them behind her counter in the place she told me to. She walks out in a dark purple dress, one of the more conservative Victorian styles with poofy sleeves and all. Completed with her hair down but with the front strands pulled back in a waterfall style she looks beautiful. 

"We'll be the best looking girls in town," she winks, nudging me gently with her elbow. I smile, finding myself to actually start to enjoy her company. 

She locks the shop up and then the two of us head out into the public. Bronte's place is only a few blocks away from her shop, so it only takes us about ten minutes to get there. The sun has gone down and it's dark outside and I find that it's kind of nice to walk around Saint Denis when all the lamp posts are all lit. I would love to come back here one night with Arthur and take a walk with him. Maybe go out to eat at one of the restaurants and see a show?

It hits me that Arthur and I haven't really been on a...date. Like a date-date. Sure we went to dinner in Valentine and we've spent a lot of time alone, but it hasn't been a real  _date_. 

"Here's the place," she says softly, drawing my attention. I look up at the manor, breathing deeply. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Beautiful is an understatement. It's a mansion, a couple of floors high and with a giant privacy fence that probably stretches around the whole property. Where the entrance is located a white tent is set up, string lights illuminating the pathway to the doors of the house. Two men stand dressed in suits ready to take invitations, along with two police officers. Bronte must be pretty strict on who can and cannot get into this party. I wonder if the sight of them made Arthur and them nervous.

"Ladies you look wonderful tonight," the man on the right greets us. He bows slightly, holding out a hand. Kylie slips a piece of paper into it and he briefly glances at it before nodding. "Pleasure to see you again Miss Carnahan. Please enjoy yourselves." He sweeps his arm out and we walk past him, following the sound people talking and having a good time. 

"Easy as pie," she mutters and I laugh. With our elbows linked together we walk through the parlor and through the door leading to the backyard. All types of people are here and dressed to the nine's. Men and women both mingling about with each other. At the base of the stairs inside the gazebo is a band, mainly violinists playing classical songs that I can somewhat recognize but can't for the life of me put a name to. I don't see any of the men yet so I wonder where they could be. 

This...I never got to this part in the game. Even if I had, I'm not sure I would even remember it. This whole business with Bronte is new to me, and I'm just as unprepared for what's going to happen next as the next guy. Being in a world that isn't the one I was raised in is scary and if I didn't know that I have Arthur there for me to rely on...I'm not sure what I would do.

A waiter walks past and Kylie stops him, grabbing two glasses of champagne for herself and I. We clink our drinks together before I take a small sip. She, however, downs the whole thing in one go.

"Thirsty?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. She places the empty glass on a passing waiter's tray. 

She nods, licking her lips. "Parched."

Standing near the band is a woman wearing a hat that would stand out in any crowd. It's tall and has feathers from birds I've never seen before raised gracefully in the air. And there, standing in front of her talking is Arthur himself. 

"There he is," I say loud enough for Kylie to hear. She looks at where I'm gesturing, freezing. "That's my Arthur."

"My God..." she says quietly enough that I almost miss it. I look down at her, confused. The look on her face is one of wonder and I'm not sure exactly why she's looking at him like that. 

"Kylie," I draw her attention, "do you know Arthur?"

She shakes herself out of her stupor and smiles at me weakly. "Not personally, no."

I frown, her answer not clearing anything up for me at all. "What do you mean n--"

"Lily?" 

I stop, watching Kylie's face break out in a smile. I turn to my left and see Arthur slowly walking towards us, his head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed, trying to make us out. 

"Is that you?"

I clear my throat, pushing all thoughts of Kylie to the side for the moment. "Yeah, Arthur. It's me."

He walks up to me, eyes not focusing on one place for too long as he tries to take everything in. He gently reaches out and takes my hands in his own and holds them tightly. "How...When..." he chuckles nervously. "Man, I can't even talk around ya right now."

That brings a smile to my face. "I hope that's for a good reason."

He takes a deep breath, lifting his eyebrows and  then letting out a low whistle. "Darlin', I'm speechless." He tugs me forward and wraps one hand around my waist, using the other one to tilt my chin up so he can kiss me. It's no small kiss either--this is one full of something that I hope we can explore later on. He doesn't need to use words if he can express himself to me like this. I get the message loud and clear.

"I think you may be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he says lowly when we finally pull apart. I blush deeply, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

I feel a tap on my shoulder and I instantly remember that we're not alone. I look to the side and see Kylie standing there, only slightly uncomfortable. 

"Hi, not to intrude or anything but people are staring." She glances off to the side where it appears a group of high society women are indeed muttering among themselves while looking directly at me and Arthur. She turns to Arthur and looks at him expectantly. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Mr. Callahan." 

Arthur looks at me in puzzlement. "Huh?"

I compose myself, pulling away from Arthur. "Uh, Arthur, this is Kylie Carnahan. Kylie, Arthur Callahan. She's the owner of the dress shop where I got this from."

A look of understanding crosses his face. "That where you snuck off to when we was with Trelawny?" I nod. "I don't think it's fair you got ta see me in the suit but I didn't get ta see the dress until now." 

I laugh, slapping my hand on his chest lightly. "I wanted to surprise you."

He smiles,  _genuinely_ smiles. "What a mighty fine surprise indeed." He looks over at Kylie, nodding his head at her. "Nice ta meet you. Lily, I have to do some talkin' for Dutch. Do ya want to come with me or would ya like to stay with your lady-friend here?"

"I'll come with you." I tell him, and he smiles even more. "You're okay with that, right?" I ask as Arthur walks a few feet away to talk to some man in a suit. 

Kylie waves a hand. "I'll be fine. I need to meet some of the women here and get in their good graces. She nudges me, winking like she knows something that I don't. "Just invite me to the wedding when you become Mrs. Lily Morgan, yeah?" And with that she turns on her heel and walks away. 

I'm left frozen in my spot, my breath caught in my lungs. She used Arthur's real last name. 

I didn't tell her that.


	32. Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhh snap guys. This chapter is....well....you'll see. 
> 
> Sorry for the late update. I just started a new job recently and now I know what my work schedule is so I can put time aside for this story. There WILL be an update on Sunday, don't worry. 
> 
> Thank you for the kind words and kudos! I love you guys so so so much. <3

I'm frozen to the spot, staring after Kylie as she walks away. She used Arthur's real last name. I never mentioned it. I introduced him as  _ Callahan _ . How the fuck did she know about Morgan?!

"Lily?" 

I'm brought back to the present by the sound of Arthur's voice calling to me. I turn around to find him staring at me oddly, waiting for me to join him. I compose myself and lift up the skirt of my dress, walking over to his side. I loop my arm through his own, giving him a weak smile and looking over my shoulder once more to find Kylie. She's disappeared now and I don't see her through the throng of people. 

There's something going on here and I don't like it. 

"Everythin' all right?" Arthur mumbles, keeping his voice low so we don't attract any unwanted attention. 

I nod my head, taking a bigger drink from my champagne than I did earlier. I feel like I'm going to need this. I place the glass on a waiter's tray and thank him. Arthur frowns at me, probably not sure what to make of me at this moment. 

"Dutch wants me to meet the mayor," Arthur tells me, nodding at some men who acknowledge him, "and I think havin' a pretty lady like you on my arm will help. I think that's them over there." 

Together the two of us walk over to a group of five men standing by the pond, deep in conversation. We manage to catch the tail end of what one of the men are saying, and judging by the looks on the others' faces they aren't exactly enjoying the conversation. 

"--and only an idiot like you, buddy, would try to make it so." The man on the left laughs, holding a drink in his hand and wavering slightly on his feet. 

One of the men in a top hat frowns, shaking his head. "I will no deny idiocy, sir, but perhaps now is not the time." He has a vague french lilt to his voice. Interesting. 

The first man laughs again, this time more manic. "Typical pansy!" 

"You're drunk, Ferdinand." The man whom I'm guessing is the mayor sighs, looking at Ferdinand over the top of his glasses. 

That strikes a chord in him. "I'm not  _ drunk _ , you fool..." Arthur and I are just barely standing outside the group now, watching it unfold. "But this man," Ferdinand pats the shoulder of the man on his left, "this man  _ loves _ darkies."

"Arthur," I whisper, nudging his side and gesturing towards Ferdinand. He gets the hint and steps forward, clapping the drunk on his shoulder and laughing. "You  _ are _ pretty drunk. What's say you and me cool off?"

The next thing I know Arthur has Ferdinand's arm pinned behind his back and is forcing him to walk away from the group of men. Ferdinand argues the whole time but in his state there's no way he would win in a fight against Arthur. The men in the group all let out a sigh of relief when the two of them are a few feet away, shaking their heads and mumbling among themselves. I take this opportunity to draw their attention by clearing my throat. The men all look at me, unsure of what to do. 

"Gentlemen, I'm Lily Edwards. The man who just helped you was my, uh, friend, Arthur Callahan. We noticed that things seemed to be getting a little tense so we thought it best to step in. Hope you don't mind the intrusion."

The man that was scolding Ferdinand takes one of my hands, raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of my knuckles. "A most gracious intervention, indeed." Arthur comes back at that point, briefly narrowing his eyes at the man who has his hand on mine. I take my hand back, allowing Arthur to shake hands with the same man. "Thank you, sir."

Arthur nods his head. "My pleasure."

"Henri Lemieux," he introduces himself, "I hope you're enjoying my party." 

So I was right. This man is the mayor. Arthur wraps one hand around my waist, pulling me to his side. "The mayor?"

Henri shrugs, eyeing Arthur's hold on me. "Allegedly."

"That's quite a place you got here."

Henri shakes his head. "It's not mine, and the city is horribly in debt...but we can still put on a good show."

Arthur gestures to me. "I see you've met my--"

"--friend. I've already introduced myself, Mr. Callahan." I give him a pointed look. A weird look crosses Arthur's face but it's gone before anyone can really notice it. He nods, dropping his hand from my waist. 

Henri doesn't notice the odd exchange, or if he does he doesn't acknowledge it. He turns to the man on his right. "Do you know Evelyn Miller?"

Arthur takes a deep breath in. "My Lord...the writer?"

Evelyn raises a brow, his face one of disbelief. "Well, we seem to have another deranged drunkard on our hands." He chuckles, turning away from Arthur. That wasn't very nice. 

There's a sudden booming sound, making me jump. Arthur grabs a hold of my arm almost instinctively, steadying me. I look up at the sky, seeing...fireworks?

"Ain't ya ever seen fireworks before?" He asks me quietly, a smirk playing at his lips. 

I laugh. "I have. It just caught me off guard."

Henri Lemieux smiles back at us, walking towards where the crowd of people has gathered to watch the show. "Shall we?"

I once more slip my hand through the crook of his arm, the two of us following the mayor. We stop at his side, looking up at the flashing lights and hearing the people around us talking about how pretty it all is. 

"Ya like it?" Arthur asks, looking down at me. 

I smile up at him, snuggling into his side. "I do. It's beautiful." A particular flash of colors catches my eye. I've always enjoyed watching fireworks. The 4th of July was one of my favorite holidays back home. 

"Yes you are." He murmurs, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my cheek. I blush, not just from the kiss but also his words. Arthur may say that he's bad at flirting and all, but that man doesn't even realize just how smooth he can be. 

He suddenly straightens up, and just from the way he's tilting his head I can tell he's listening to something. A few moments later and I feel a presence on my left, someone besides Arthur placing their hand around my waist. I look to the side and see Dutch standing there. He nods to me, before turning to Arthur. They lean their heads together, talking. 

"Did he just say something about Cornwall?" Dutch murmurs. 

"Yes." Arthur answers, looking back briefly to where Henri walked off to speak to a waiter.

"Find out what." Dutch's voice is urgent. 

"Sure." Arthur says, and without another thought he drops my hand and walks off towards the house. I look after him as he walks away, a little disappointed that our moment was ruined by talk of Cornwall. 

Dutch takes over Arthur's spot, acting like the gentleman attending a party with a lady. He tries to act nonchalant but I know hearing Cornwall's name probably has him all stirred up inside. He lets out a sigh, trying to relax. Dutch is warm, fighting off some of the chill for me that has begun to come with the sinking of the sun. His arm and body next to mine isn't exactly unwanted, even though he did make Arthur leave. 

"You look very nice. Wasn't expecting you to join us tonight," Dutch begins, lifting his chin to look at the sky. 

"I thought it'd be nice to get out for once. Made some new friends and they let me in."

Dutch looks down at me with a raised brow. "Should I be concerned about these new friends?"

"No more than you should be concerned of  _ your _ new friends." I throw back at him, daring him to challenge me on this. He seems impressed with my comeback. He slips his other hand inside of his pants pocket, pulling out a pocket watch and quickly checking the time. 

"Touché, Miss Edwards." He puts the watch away and glances around at all the people standing here. "Look at them. So unaware of what's going on in the world so long as they have a good show to distract them. It's sad, really."

Dutch turns and we walk away from the crowd of people as the fireworks begin to die down. We walk up the steps and to the balcony. I lean my elbows on the railing as Dutch pulls out a cigar from his pocket and lights it. I scoff silently and turn away, looking down at the ground. 

"Problem?" He asks through the cigar between his teeth. He blows out a puff of smoke in my direction. 

I stand up straight, waving it away from my face. "Smoking  _ can _ kill you. I sometimes feel like you guys aren't aware of this. Even second-hand smoke can be harmful."

"Second-hand?"

I gesture to the tobacco floating around in the air. "Smoke that others inhale even though they aren't directly smoking themselves. I'm getting second-hand smoke right now."

Dutch takes another drag and this time is nice enough to blow it in the other direction. "Welcome to the country, sweetheart. Everybody smokes out here."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well they shouldn't." 

Arthur comes out of the house at this point, moving between Dutch and I to talk to him. I back away with a sigh, beginning to get the feeling that I shouldn't have come tonight. Sure, Arthur's initial reaction was nice but now I just feel like I'm in the way. These guys came here tonight to get stuff done, not party. I  _ did _ think it would be nice to go out for once, but now I see that I shouldn't have done it. Maybe if I just tell Arthur I want to go out with him, just the two of us, he'll make time for it. I won't have to sneak around like this and then barge in on plans. Man, I feel dumb. 

Bill and Hosea walk up the steps to join us. Bill is annoyed, I can see it on his face. He's talking to Hosea and waving his arms around. 

"Nothing!" He gripes, stomping up the last few stairs. "This town is a waste of time." 

The two of them pause when they see me. Bill doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't frown or growl at me. Progress. Hosea greets me with a smile and steps forward to place a kiss on my hand, similar to Henri. 

"You look beautiful, Lily. I didn't know you would be joining us." 

I smile back at his kind words. "Thank you, Hosea. All of you look very dashing." Bill narrows his eyes at me slightly and I can almost physically see what he's thinking. "Yes, that includes you, Bill. You clean up nicely."

Bill doesn't say anything to my words but I swear I see a flicker of a smile on his lips. Or maybe it was just my imagination. 

"Back on what Bill was saying," Hosea calls the attention back to him, "I don't think this town is such a waste. Arthur?" Arthur nods and pats his breast pocket, not needing to say anything as an unspoken conversation passes between the men. Hosea smiles. "Gentlemen, I think we're done here."

A gust of wind passes through and I can't help but shiver slightly as I feel the goosebumps raise on my arms. Maybe I should have gotten a shawl or something to go with this dress. 

Dutch leads the way back into the house with Hosea and Arthur close behind. I try not to feel agitated at the way Arthur seems to be disregarding me since Dutch came back into the picture and follow after them. 

I feel a tap on my shoulder and glance back to see a suit jacket outstretched towards me in a hand. I follow it to see that it's  _ Bill's _ jacket, and he's staring not at me but after the others, as if he pointedly didn't want to think about what he was doing. I take the clothing slowly, unsure if this is some trick or something. When he doesn't jerk it out of my reach I relax a little bit and begin to feel something warm inside of me at the simple gesture. 

"Thank you," I say quietly, swinging it around my shoulders and immediately feeling a lot warmer than I did before. And since Dutch had them bathe before coming to the party, the jacket smells nice. It even has a faint cologne still clinging to it. 

Bill follows me into the house as we trail after the others. He catches up to my side, close enough that he can hear and join in on the guys' conversation about some heist. When we reach the white tent at the entrance the guys open the trunk on the side and begin pulling their guns out. I didn't even know that weapons weren't allowed in here, though I guess it makes sense. 

When Arthur gets his out he straightens and turns to me, pausing when he sees Bill's jacket around my shoulders. I shrug, not knowing quite how to explain it. I walk over to him and he leads me out into the street in the night. 

"Here," he says, taking Bill's jacket off me and handing it back to the man. I frown, trying to shield myself from the cold. Arthur takes his own jacket off and drapes it on me, rubbing the sides of my arms up and down. "If you was cold you should'a said somethin'."

"My own dumb fault for not bringing something warm," I mutter. I look back at Bill as he slips his jacket on, smiling at him and saying thanks once again. He nods, looking down at the ground and brushing off the simple gesture. 

"Here comes Charles," Dutch says as the man himself rides up on a carriage. When he comes to a stop he smiles down at me and waves. 

Arthur opens the door and looks at me expectantly. I almost take his hand and step inside when I remember I rode Chewie here and I left my clothes in Kylie's shop. 

Kylie. 

I need to talk to her. 

I shake my head, stepping back. He looks at me with confusion, slowly lowering his hand. Bill and Hosea climb into the carriage in the meantime while Dutch finishes speaking to the men standing guard. 

"I have my own ride. I'll meet you guys back at camp."

He frowns at that. "What? Chewie?" I nod at him. "I don't like the thought of you ridin' out here alone at night." 

I refrain from rolling my eyes. Dutch steps into the carriage. Now they're just waiting for Arthur. "I'll be fine. I also need to talk to my, uh, friend. I'll be back before you know it, okay?" 

I go to take his jacket off and give it back but he stops me, holding up a hand. "Just keep it. You're gonna get cold out there without it."

I move forward, leaning on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He turns his head to the side at the last second so that my lips meet his. I smile against him, feeling his hands press tightly against my back. When he pulls away he leans down to my ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. 

"Really like this dress on ya," he hums, brushing his nose against my ear softly, "but I'd love to see ya without anythin' on even more."  He places one more breath-taking kiss on me before turning and climbing inside the carriage with the others, sticking his head out the window and winking at me. "If you're not back in an hour I'm comin' for ya!" He yells at me as the carriage rides away. I just laugh and wave goodbye. 

Hiking up my dress I make my way to Kylie's shop, not even sure if she's  _there_ right now. I mean, I kind of left the party early. That was thanks to Dutch and Hosea, though. I would have loved to just stay there for a while longer and enjoyed myself with Arthur. Maybe even spent the night in a hotel with him if I'd had my way. 

Unsurprisingly Kylie's shop is still locked up when I get there. With no other choice but to wait I sit down on a bench nearby and watch the people walking past. Some pay me no attention and others cast me pitying glances, as though they think I got stood up on a date or something. 

As  _if_. 

About twenty minutes later I finally see her approaching, whistling to herself. I don't think anything of it until something wakes up in the back of my head. 

She's whistling a song that I think I actually know. It sounds like 'Everybody Loves Somebody' by Dean Martin. 

A man who hasn't even been  _born_ yet.

She stops when she sees me sitting there, perking up instantly. "Lily? What are you doing here?"

I stand up to my feet shakily, trying to remain calm so she doesn't suspect anything. "I just came to change back into my clothes." 

She smiles, nodding her head as if that was a completely acceptable reason. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Mrs. Thames just kept going on and  _on_ about her dog and how he won't stop barking at her husband." She unlocks the door and steps inside. I follow close behind, watching her every move. 

Of course. I should've known. The way she speaks. The odd reaction to Arthur. The non-judgmental vibe from the way I dress. The way she knew Arthur's last name. The  _song_ she was whistling. 

I shut the door behind me, turning the lock. She looks back at me weirdly, now obviously on edge. "Why'd you lock the door?"

I move quickly, getting up in her face. I'm not that much taller than her, maybe a good inch or two, so I know that my height won't intimidate her. 

"What year were you born."

She narrows her eyes at me. "Don't you know it's not polite to ask a lady her age?"

I glare back, slamming my hand down on the counter in frustration. "What  _year_ , Kylie?"

She pauses, looking from my face down to my hand briefly. "...18--"

I shake my head. "Stop right there. I  _know_ that's bullshit."

She takes a step back, peering at me. "Are you okay, Lily? Did you hit your head or something?"

"What song were you whistling just now?"

Kylie turns away from me, walking to the back of the store. "Something you haven't heard from this area before. It's new."

"Or really old. Never would have pegged you as a fan of Dean Martin."

She freezes on the spot, one hand paused in midair, ready to open a door. A silence stretches between us, the tension growing. She turns around very slowly, looking at me with wide eyes. 

"I knew it." She whispers, and it appears that she's looking at me with new eyes. "I  _knew_ it--!"

"You're...?" I trail off, not wanting to say it out loud for fear that I could be  _very_ wrong with what thoughts have been going through my mind. 

She nods uncertainly, almost as though she has the same fear. 

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Kylie," I brace myself, "what year were you born? And be  _honest_."

She inhales shakily, her hands fiddling around with one another. "1994."

I drop to my knees, one hand clutching my chest tightly. I feel as though I'm about to begin hyperventilating. Am I going into shock? Probably.

"Lily, Lily," Kylie says hurriedly, rushing to my side and placing a comforting hand on my back. "Lily you have to breathe, okay?" 

I nod, feeling completely overwhelmed all of a sudden. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to block everything out so I can just focus on not passing out. When I open them again I feel better and more in control of myself. 

"1990." I say quietly. Kylie leans in closer. 

"What?"

"1990. I was born in 1990."

Her hand freezes, and she slides onto the ground beside me. She looks over at me with almost a deer-in-the-headlights face. We stare at each other for a few seconds before I move forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. She reciprocates instantly, the two of us clinging to one another as if our lives depended on it. 

"I thought I was alone," she says quietly, crushing me. 

"Me too," I whisper back. We stay like that for a few minutes, just holding onto one another. For me it was being able to physically touch something from home. To know that I'm not the only one who wound up here in this place, this  _time_. 

I'm not alone.

We pull away from each other and say nothing. I keep one hand in hers, just to ground myself and help me to remember that this is real and happening. 

"I suspected, but I wasn't sure." She finally says. 

I nod. "I did too. But you blend in pretty well."

She shrugs. "I've been here a while. I had to adapt quickly before they burned me at the stake."

"Do they still do that?" I ask, leaning in closer. 

She smiles weakly, shaking her head. "No. Not anymore."

I let out a frustrated noise. "I've had to recall all of my high school history classes while here. It makes me wish I had payed better attention."

She nods quickly. "I completely agree."

I feel choked up suddenly. "You have no idea how relieved I am to find out that you're also, well, not from here."

She smiles. "Ever since Georgia died I've been alone. All I've had was this shop, and I was slowly starting to go insane from doing nothing but stitching. You have no idea how boring and meticulous that is."

"I'm a doctor, Kylie. I know how bad stitching can be."

She raises her eyebrows. "You're a  _doctor?"_

I nod my head vigorously. "Yes! And it's so nice to finally say it to someone whom I know will actually  _believe_ me!"

"I was just a teacher at a high school. Nothing as exciting as that." She looks at me seriously all of a sudden. "Lily, your boyfriend is Arthur Morgan."

I nod, lighting up. "He's a  _dream_ , Kylie."

"No, I mean you're dating a video game character. These people aren't  _real_ , Lily. You and I are but the rest of them are not. How did we end up here? Why you and me?"  


Her words make me realize something that I didn't think of until now. She's right. Her and I  _are_ the only real ones. Though in this world the others  _seem_ real, deep down inside I know they're not. What's so special about us that we were transported or teleported or whatever the hell  _here_ and into  _this_ game?

"I-I don't know. I don't know why we're here."

She frowns. "How do we get home?"

Home? She obviously means my home back in our time, back where there's modern technology. 

Back where the group of people I live with right now don't exist except for in a game.

Back where there's no  _Arthur_.

If there's no Arthur, is it even a home to me?

A sudden thought hits me out of nowhere, and even though I get the feeling it's been brewing in the back of my mind for ages now, I'm not quite prepared to deal with it so it throws me off guard. 

Do I even  _want_ to go home?


	33. No Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update as promised! Now that Kylie's character has been introduced things are going to be getting pretty intense, and answers will be coming to light. Stay tuned!
> 
> Question: What influence do you think Kylie is going to have on the camp? Good? Bad? Let me know?

Kylie and I talked for two hours, just getting to know one another and learn more about our situations. The more we spoke about our lives in our time the more homesick we got. 

She is a high school teacher, fresh out of college. She lives somewhere in Montana, just a few miles down the road from where she grew up. Her students had been going on about this new video game that came out, so she bought it to try to find new things to talk about with them. Her brother had played the original game that came out and she watched some of that growing up, but she didn't recognize most of the characters in this one. She mainly only knew Dutch, Bill, Javier, John and Abigail. Apparently Jack isn't a child in the first game. 

Something that I found odd was that Kylie was around the same spot in the game as me when she was sucked into this world. She was maybe a few missions ahead, but she hadn't yet reached chapter 5 when she landed in the streets of Saint Denis. One minute she was on her couch, dozing off, and then suddenly some woman was shaking her shoulder checking if she was alive. I guess that's where this Georgia woman came in, the previous owner of the shop. She took one look at the poor girl and let her into her home, helping her get on her feet. Kylie was lucky with that. 

"You  _what?!"_

"The O'Driscoll's found me. I don't even know where I originally was when I came here. One second I was asleep in bed and then next thing I know I'm tied up on the back of some shithead's horse. That's when Arthur and Charles came along. Had it not been for them I'm not sure what would have happened to me."

She goes quiet, looking at me with wide eyes. "Lily, I got here about six months ago. It took me a good week to put together the pieces that I was somehow in freaking Red Dead Redemption 2, but I had no clue why, how, or  _where_ in the game I was. I wasn't even sure if I was in the actual timeline. I was suspicious because Angelo was still alive, but--"

"Woah, wait," I hold up a hand to stop her, "Angelo  _dies?"_

She nods her head slowly, making a queasy face. "It's...it's not pretty, Lily. He does some shitty things to the gang and Dutch, well, he drowns him and then feeds him to an alligator."

My mouth falls open in silent shock. "Dutch does that?"

The grimace on her face is all the answer I need. What could possibly possess Dutch that he would do that to another person?

"Jesus..." I whisper, horrified with the images that pop into my head. "Wait, how much do you remember?"

Kylie looks at me in confusion. "All of it. I haven't lost any memories from  back home, if that's what you're asking."

I shake my head. "No, the game. You remember everything you played? All of it?"

She looks at me like I have two heads. "You don't?"

"No, I feel like I've been having short-term memory loss or something. I keep forgetting things that I don't remember until after they've happened, so it's no help to me. But I forget the rest, Kylie. I don't remember Angelo's party. I'm going through all of this blind and it's terrifying."

She frowns, thinking hard about what I've said. "I find that strange...I can remember everything I've played in the game. Maybe it's because you live with the gang, and I don't? Maybe being around them alters your memories or something."

I don't think that's it. "See, I had the same thought at first but I still remember everything from back home. It's only things about the game itself that I don't remember. I got here sometime in the middle of chapter 3--right before Arthur was kidnapped. I may have interfered a little bit, and helped out with some things." My eyes light up. "Kylie, I saved Sean."

Her jaw drops. "What?"

I nod my head quickly. "He's alive. I pushed him out of the way of the bullet that would have killed him. He's still with the gang."

She leans forward suddenly, taking my hands in hers. "Lily, maybe your memory loss has something to do with how you're literally changing the game. You're altering the timeline. Have you done anything else that changed the story?"

I close my eyes, thinking back to all that's happened to me since I've gotten here. But with my memory of the actual game play itself being so shitty nothing besides Sean's death really stands out to me in regards to anything I could have changed. 

"I don't know, honestly. I can't remember."

Kylie purses her lips and nods, deep in thought. "Okay, well I remember what I've played. I really do think it might have something to do with your involvement, Lily. You're fitting in quite well around here."

"So are you." I say, gesturing to her shop and clothing. 

"Where do you currently live? Like, where is the gang right now? Shady Belle, right?"

I nod. "Shady Belle. We've been there for a few weeks now."

She taps one finger to her chin. "The timeline here is longer than in the game, I've found. It felt like something was happening every single day but I guess not."

I reach over and take her hand in my own, getting her attention. "Kylie, I know you said that these people aren't real, but here? In this world? They  _are_. They eat, they breathe," I swallow past the dryness in my throat, "they bleed and die. I know, coming from our time and everything where these people are nothing more than video game characters it sounds ridiculous, but here they're  _real_."

If I didn't know better I would say that the look she gives me is something akin to pity. "Lily, I know you're with Arthur and you really want him to be real--"

I shake my head immediately. "No, he's real. Everyone here in this...this world or whatever is real. Maybe it's an alternate universe or something that just so happens to be made of people from a video game back home, but they're  _living_." 

She takes her hand out of mine and closes her eyes as she rubs her temples. "Finally having someone to talk about all of this with and trying to make sense just makes my head hurt."

I laugh weakly. "I know what you mean." A sudden thought pops into my head. "You said that you remember everything you've played, right?" She nods her head. "What happens next?"

She lowers her hands and stares off into the distance in thought. Her face suddenly goes blank and she seems to pale--which is saying something considering how pale she already is. 

"Lily, listen, something bad is going to happen to--"

_BANG!_

Kylie and I both jump in our spots, startled at the sudden booming coming from the front door. At some point before we really settled down to start talking she and I changed into our other set of clothes and moved into the back room where we would have more privacy. I locked the front door after we first came in so it sounds like someone is trying to break in.

We both stand from our chairs, frozen. I move first, moving to where a lone dress is and ripping it off the stand. I take the metal pole in my hand and wield it like a baseball bat, ready for whoever it is to attack us. Kylie does the same with another stand, though she sets the dress that was on it more delicately on the ground. 

_BANG!_

I move out of the back room and to the front entrance where I hear someone's hand come down rapidly in a fist against the wood, nearly knocking the door off its hinges. 

I turn back to Kylie, making eye contact with her and nodding once. She stays a few steps behind while I creep up to the door, prepared to get a glimpse at the intruder.

_"Lily!"_

I feel all the fear that had been building inside of me melt away at that one word. Arthur. 

I let out a sigh of relief, my accompanying laugh sounding frail even to my own ears. I set down the stand and turn back to Kylie, waving my hand. "It's just Arthur." 

I move over to the door and unlock it. Before I've even taken my hand off the door it's thrown open and Arthur is striding inside, crushing me to him. He looks around wildly, looking for any possible threats. 

"Arthur," I say, my voice muffled from being pressed against his chest. He releases me a little bit and I look up at him with a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. It's just Kylie and I in here."

He doesn't believe my words at first, still looking around for a few seconds before he must finally determine that there really isn't any threat in here. He releases me slowly but laces one of his hands through my own. 

"I'm sorry. I know I told you I would be back within an hour--"

He frowns down at me. "Yeah, you did. I was worried sick. It's been almost three hours, Lily. I thought someone had grabbed you or somethin'."

I'm touched at how worried for my safety he was. "I'm fine. Kylie and I have been in here talking. Time just got away from me."

"Very sorry, Mr. Morgan. That's my fault."

Arthur whips his head down at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"It's okay, I promise. Kylie isn't going to tell anyone."

Kylie makes a motion over her chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die. I won't say anything."

Arthur studies her for a moment before nodding his head slowly, choosing to take her word. For now at least. 

"I think we should be headin' back. Charles said if we wasn't back soon after I left then he was goin' to get a group of 'em out after us."

Shit. "Fuck, I didn't mean to make you guys worry. I'm sorry."

Arthur doesn't say anything, just dips his hat at Kylie and then leads me out of the store. Before we're more than ten feet away I suddenly remember something and stop in my tracks, also causing Arthur to stop. He looks back at me, slightly annoyed. I give him a sheepish look and hold up one finger to ask for just one more minute. 

I go back to the shop, opening the door and finding Kylie packing her own things up and getting ready to leave. "Kylie, what were you going to say before Arthur showed up?"

She pauses, thinking back. She suddenly straightens and walks closer to me so that we won't be overheard. "I can't say a lot right now, we don't have time. Just keep an eye on Kieran, okay?"

I frown. "Is he going to betray us or something?" 

She gets a sad look on her face. "No, but something bad might happen to him. Just stick close to him and don't let him leave camp alone, all right? If you were able to change what happened to Sean then maybe you can stop this too."

I don't understand what she's saying but she remembers more than I do so I'll listen to her. On an impulse I move forward and hug her, just happy to have a confidant like her here with me. I'm not alone anymore. 

"I'll need to bring you back to camp with me soon. You need to meet everyone."

"Everyone?" She asks, pulling back from me and raising a brow. 

I laugh. "Steer clear of Micah, but besides him, yes, everyone."

We say goodbye and I run back out the door, over to where Arthur is still standing where I left him. He lets out a small sigh but we continue walking. Winston is hitched closer than Chewie, so he follows alongside me as I make my way over to my horse. He doesn't say anything to me during the short trek or even after I've mounted Chewie and we've started making our way back to camp. He pushes Winston hard, making it difficult for me to ride alongside him and forcing me to resort to trailing behind. He's doing this on purpose.

When we've left the town and are in open country I decide that I've finally had enough and have Chewie speed up until I'm in front of Arthur and I can force Winston to come to a stop. Arthur frowns at me, pulling on his reigns to help Winston to calm down. The sounds of frogs and lingering predators of the swamps surround us with the moon being our only light. 

"What?" He asks, his tone a little too curt for my liking. 

"Why are you being so moody?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. Chewie snorts, pawing at the ground. 

Arthur looks to the side, and even in this poor lighting I can see the way his jaw clenches as though he's trying to hold in what he wants to say. 

I have Chewie move so that I'm now alongside him. I reach over and place a hand on Arthur's leg in the stirrup, his eyes darting to where I'm touching him. 

"We have to talk to each other, Arthur. If you're upset with me I need to know why."

He sighs, placing one hand on top of my own on his leg. "I was just worried, Darlin'. You didn't show up when you said you was and then I find out you've just been talkin' with that girl and everythin's fine. I don't like worryin' for no reason. I don't like worryin'  _period_."

"Arthur," I say quietly, and he finally looks over at me. I can see how drawn and tired his face is. "I'm sorry. I don't know how many times you need me to say it but I'll keep doing it until you think it's good enough. I'm sorry. I just--Kylie and I talked about some stuff from back home and I couldn't stop. Time got away from me."

He cocks his head to the side. "You and her lived in the same place?"

I purse my lips. "Well...kind of. But it was just nice to talk to someone who's used to what I'm used to. Things are so different out here that talking to her made me miss home."

Arthur studies my face for a moment, and when he speaks his voice is real low. "Lily, do you want to go home?"

There's that question again. It's what Kylie asked me, it's what Arthur has asked me before, and it's what I've asked myself. Do I want to go home? 

Sure, talking about all of that stuff from my time with Kylie made me homesick and brought back some memories, but I also stand by what I told her. Everything here is real. The Van Der Linde gang is real. Arthur is real. If I left I would be leaving behind actual people. What choice would I make?

I take my hand off his leg and grab the reigns, clearing my throat. "I am going home, Arthur--to Shady Belle. Now lets go before Charles sends the cavalry for no reason." I nudge Chewie and we take off, back towards camp. I just barely glimpse back over my shoulder and see that Arthur is close behind on Winston, a smile on his face. 

* * *

The next day Arthur gets up early, saying that he, Trelawny, Strauss and Javier are going to do a little business on a boat. I'm not sure what he means by that and I know that he's not telling me everything but I don't push. I'm not sure if I really even want to know what it is what they're going to be doing. Better for my conscience that way. The three men are out of camp by the time I decide to get out of bed.

I get dressed and go about doing my normal chores, finishing them a little earlier than normal. I go through the medicine and make sure we have enough in case of another Lenny emergency. He's awake and sitting up now, but he isn't walking yet. He's well enough that we were able to move him off the table and onto the ground onto a bedroll so that he's more comfortable. Mary-Beth especially has taken to mothering him, making sure he has food and water and doesn't get too bored. Tilly and Karen also stop in a lot. It's nice to see that the others really do care for the boy. 

"Lily, can you help me fer a minute?" I look over to see Sean waving me over from behind the house. Curious, I follow him. He leads me to where a hunched over Bill is seated on a log, nursing his left hand. Sean stops, extending a hand out to the man and giving me an exasperated look. "The damn fool won't let anyone take a look at it. A knife slipped and got lodged in his palm."

"What?" I ask, shocked that I wasn't told about this. I move over to Bill instantly and watch as he recoils and turns his back to me. Letting out a huff I walk around him and crouch down, gripping his hand and pulling it away from where it was cradled against his chest. Surprisingly he doesn't pull away and actually lets me touch it.

"You're supposed to come to me about these things, Bill." I chastise him, delicately holding his hand in between my own. There is a thick gash in the middle of his palm, but when I flip his hand over I don't see an exit wound so I'm guessing the knife didn't go clear through. 

Bill grumbles something that I can't make out, but I'm guessing it's something about Sean being a tattle-tale.

"You're going to need a couple of stitches. You'll be lucky if you don't get an infection from this. It should have been cleaned out and sterilized as soon as it happened." I sigh, standing to my feet and pointing a finger down at him. "Stay here." 

I make my way quickly to my supplies and grab a needle and thread, along with some alcohol. I need to put that on a list of things to get is some proper sterilization liquid. Bill is still in the same spot when I return, Sean talking to him about anything and everything. He's like a grown child, honestly. 

"Okay," I say, placing my things down on the log beside Bill and sitting on the ground. I take his hand again, popping the lid off the alcohol and pouring a tiny bit onto the wound. 

Bill growls and curses, yanking his hand away from me. I pull it back, blowing on it slightly to help it begin to dry. "It's going to hurt, Bill. That means it's working."

I take the needle and thread and begin to sew it up, being careful to not bring him more pain than he already must be experiencing. I'm finishing tying up the last stitch when Sean leaves us, taking the alcohol with him. 

"Why are you so nice to me?" Bill mumbles, looking down at me with a frown. I pause, not expecting that question. 

"Huh?"

He waves a hand in the direction of my work. "This. You say that dumb stuff yesterday at the party and now you're helping me with this. I haven't been nice to you, so why are you being nice to me?"

I shrug, taking his knife and cutting off the excess thread. His hand is taken care of now. "I don't know. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt before I treat them like shit. I wasn't exactly 'nice' to you when we first met, Bill. But I know you're a good guy. You just have it rough sometimes."

Bill watches me, not saying anything. I stand to my feet and brush off my pants, collecting my things. "Wrap that in a cloth and it'll be way better in a few days. Take two of the pain pills a day if it hurts too much." I turn and leave, almost around the house when I hear him. 

"Thank you."

I pause, looking back at him. I nod my head in understanding and then continue on my way. 

"Kieran!" I call, spotting him as he's walking out of his tent and towards the horses. Kylie's words from the night before come back to the forefront of my mind. 

_Keep an eye on Kieran._

_Something bad might happen to him._

He jumps a little, obviously not expecting anyone to talk to him. I put a smile on his face and walk over to his side, watching him load carrots and a few apples into a satchel. 

"What are you up to today?"

He straightens, closing the satchel and attaching it to his horse's saddle. "I was just goin' to ride into town and see if there's anything to buy for the horses. I could use a new lead and maybe some other things for Bishop."

I perk up. "I'll go with you then. It's only fair that I buy the stuff for my horse."

He winces, looking at me with surprise. "You would want to ride with me?"

I frown, confused. "Why not?"

He looks at his boots for a moment, unsure of what to say. He finally shrugs and then looks up at me, a smile on his face. "Well, all right then. I'll get Chewie saddled up for you and then we'll head out."

I nod, actually feeling a little excited to be able to go out and do something relatively normal for once. And an added bonus is that if we're going into Saint Denis then I can stop by and talk to Kylie some more, and maybe now she can tell me what she was talking about earlier. I run into the house and stop on my way up to Arthur and I's room to tell her that I'll be going into town to catch up with a friend so Arthur won't worry. Hopefully if I'm not back tonight he'll know that I'm just staying with Kylie. 

I grab my money and walk back outside just in time to see him finish with Chewie's saddle. Damn, that man is good with horses. 

We mount up and ride out, enjoying the nice weather and making small talk on the way there. When I bring up Mary-Beth he blushes which in turn makes me laugh. That boy is as smitten as a kitten. 

We hitch the horses just outside of the post office, next to a watering trough and Kieran gives them some carrots before we leave. We walk through the little shop area, stopping at the trapper's and other little stands to see if they have anything of interest that we may want to buy. With my help Kieran finds a new lead that's sturdy and won't tear if it gets yanked on. I buy another one that he can use just for Bishop, along with a bag that supplies for my two horses can be stored in. 

I know that a while ago, when I first got Chewie, I said he was a temporary horse. But Chewie has been good to me and I don't think I'll be able to part with him. Besides, what's the harm in having more than one horse? I can afford it, and if something happens that I  _can't_ afford it, I'm sure I'll be able to find a way around it. 

"I'm going to check out that stand down there, the one with the blankets?" Kieran tells me, pointing down at the end of the alleyway. I nod, still looking through the different fruits some woman is selling. The peaches look really good. 

When I'm finished with my buy, a whole bag of them to bring back to camp for us all to enjoy, I walk back to the horses and attach the bags to them. I mount up, waiting for Kieran to come over so we can go back to camp. 

_Keep an eye on Kieran._

Shit. I shouldn't have left him alone. I dismount quickly, hitching Chewie back to the post and enter the alleyway once more. I don't see him at the stand he said he was going to be at, but I do see him a few feet down at a different one, bartering with a man about something. I let out a sigh of relief. Everything's fine. 

Until it isn't. 

After Kieran makes a purchase he goes to walk towards me when suddenly two men come out of nowhere and stand directly in front of him. He cowers, looking between them with fear evident on his face. They turn him around and steer him out of the alley by his shoulders, pushing and shoving so he'll move. 

Oh shit, oh fuck. I act on instinct, moving towards them quickly and seeing where they're taking him. Is this what Kylie was talking about? Who were those men? Why do they want Kieran?

They take him out of the alley and down another street, under an arch and around a corner. I run after them, pausing to swipe up a brick from the ground and hold it tightly in my hand so that I have some kind of weapon. Of all days for me to forget my knife. 

I hear a yell, one that sounds distinctly like Kieran and move faster. "Kieran!" I call, ducking under the arch and rounding the corner, brick poised and ready to be thrown. 

Only something hits me on the back of my head as soon as I turn around the bend. My body hits the ground before the brick, and the last thing I see are Kieran's wide eyes filled with horror. 

 


	34. The Bastard, the Bad, and the Ugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in this chapter: graphic depictions of injury, torture, just all around bad stuff. It's gross. Kind of? Could've been worse but I took it easy. 
> 
> You guysssssssssssssss the plot is coming together. Holy shit. It's only taken about 130,000 words but we're here. It's going to be moving faster now. I have some plans, and all I have to say is to be ready for angst. I'm a sucker for angst and y'all are going to suffer because of it. (For a while anyways)
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! Let me know what you think of this chapter. I'll update on Sunday! Love you all <3

_"Throw 'em in the back."_

I've had headaches before. I've had migraines. I've been kicked in the face and nearly had my nose broken. But sadly, even after experiencing as much head trauma as I have, I'll probably never get used to the absolute pain that comes with being whacked on the skull. 

I come to with my cheek pressed against a hard stone floor, my hands bound behind me and not a single light on in the room. Some of my hair has fallen out of its braid and into my face, tickling my other cheek. I use my elbows to push myself up in a seated position and lean back against the wall, feeling the cold seep straight through my clothes and into my skin. At least they left my legs alone so I can still move around. There aren't any windows in here either so I can't see what time of day it is. It was around mid-afternoon when Kieran and I left, so who knows how long we've been missing. 

_Kieran_.

Oh god,  _shit_. I swing my legs around and start scooting towards the door where I was thrown into this room. It's shut now, and even if my hands weren't tied I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get it back open. 

_"Kieran."_ I whisper-yell, not wanting to alert the men who took us that I'm awake but also trying to see if there's anyone else in here with me. 

A groan from the other side of the room draws my attention. I see a lump huddled in the corner and I quickly make my way over, though it's difficult and slow since I can only drag myself over there. There are aches in my legs but I ignore them and move as fast as I can. The lump moves and sits up, their back to me. I see their hands are bound behind them as well, so we're in the same boat. 

"Kieran?" I ask, not sure if it actually  _is_ him or not. The only thing I'm sure of is that this is a man but said man hasn't said anything yet so I can't be sure who it is I'm locked up with. 

"Ungh...Lily?" Kieran's voice is unsure and groggy, but it's him. He twists around, looking back at me through half-lidded eyes. He glances around, taking in our surroundings and apparently not liking them by the way his face scrunches up. 

"Who were those men?" I ask him, ignoring the pounding at the base of my head that comes with talking. It hurts around my occipital lobe, which is most definitely not a good thing. I can't focus on that right now, since getting out of here is the number one priority for Kieran and I.

"My old gang," he groans, moving his shoulders around, "they're O'Driscolls."

I freeze, my heart thumping in my ears. O'Driscolls? Fuck. Does that mean Colm is here? Shit. This isn't good, this is not good--

"--Lily!" Kieran whispers somewhat harshly, harsh for him anyway. I break out of my thoughts and look at him. He's concerned and without his hat he looks years younger than he actually is, but I can tell he's trying to hold himself together for my benefit. "It'll be fine. I won't let them hurt you."

My heart warms at his words, at how this man is so willing to protect me. "Let's, uh, let's just find a way out of here, okay? One thing at a time. Here, put your back to mine and let me try to get your hands free."

He listens to me, the both of us twisting around so that I can blindly fumble around and try to untie him. I'm just barely getting the knot loose when the door opens in front of me, startling me. I look up at the two men who enter the room, scooting back against the wall beside Kieran out of fear. 

"Look what we have here," the giant on the right sneers, turning to the side and spitting out a big glob of chew against the wall, "Colm's gonna be mighty happy with our catch." He walks forward, his spurs louder than they probably should be in my ears. He crouches down in front of me and grabs my chin roughly in his left hand. "Even got a pretty little tre--"

I twist my face faster than he can blink and chomp down. I wasn't aiming at anything in particular, just wanted to hurt him. I end up getting his pinkie and ring finger clenched tightly between my teeth. I taste copper as it begins to enter my mouth and the man's screams of pain echo around the room. Something stomps down on my left shin and I release his hand as I gasp in pain. He falls backwards on his ass on the ground, holding his hand protectively to his chest. The other man takes his leg back from where it was crushing my leg and moves to help his comrade, pulling him up to his feet. Tears come to the corner of my eyes as my leg starts to feel very hot inside of my pants. 

"You  _bitch,"_ he curses at me, blood running between his fingers and dripping onto the floor. I turn my head to the side and spit out the blood and skin he left behind in my mouth. When I face him again I grin, as shaky and fake as it may be considering I'm quaking with fear inside.

The other man hits Bozo on the shoulder roughly, stealing his attention from me real quick. "She's Colm's, George. Ain't you recognize her from the photo?"

George looks at me again but this time he stays a safe distance away. He narrows his eyes and bares his teeth, borderline snarling at me.

_"That's_ her? Boone, she damn near bit my hand  _off."_

Boone casts me a side glance. "We can't touch her. Your hand will be fine."

George points a finger at me from his good hand. "You're lucky." His eyes drift over to Kieran, honing in and a sickly smile crawling over his face. "But this bastard ain't. Why don't we show this lady what happens when she does shit like this, huh?" 

Boone and George share a look, similar smiles on their faces. And they're not good ones either. 

"No," I say quietly, instantly regretting what I had done when they move towards Kieran, "no, please, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Just leave him alone, please!" 

They ignore my pleading and grab Kieran by his coat, throwing him face down on the floor and cutting the binds from his hands. Boone holds his right hand tight against his back but George stretches the left one out on the ground in front of me. I watch in horror as George pulls a knife out from his holster, holding it up for show just for me. Kieran struggles on the ground, crying for mercy and desperately trying to either get his hand back or shake the men off of him. But it's two against one and they have the advantage. 

"Stop!" I cry, leaning forward and trying to reach them so I can get them off of my friend. Boone just takes his free hand and forms a fist before bringing it down roughly on my already bruising shin. I almost fall on my side as the pain races up my leg and through my nerves to my throbbing head. 

Time slows down as I watch the knife being lowered. Watching something being cut off doesn't make me ill. Nor does doing the amputation myself make me sick. It's the reasoning behind this and the fact that it's my friend who's suffering with no anesthesia whatsoever that nearly causes me to vomit all over the floor in front of me. 

Kieran's screams flood the room as the knife first cuts through his pinkie and then his ring finger, the exact same appendages as the ones on George's hand that I bit. Blood spurts out of the wound onto the floor in front of them and then steadily starts to trickle out of his fingers that have been clean chopped off. There are two stubs that meet at the base of his knuckles, the two fingers discarded to the side. Kieran continues screaming, the shrieking filling my head and making me woozy. I don't know why this is happening. I don't get like this at the sight of blood. 

Actually, I know why this is happening. This isn't surgery. This is torture. Kieran just had his fingers cut off by our biggest gang rival. 

Because of me.

"Let 'em sit for a while. Frank wants to talk about..." Boone looks at us out of the corner of his eye. I get the unsaid message. They're going to talk about us. 

George and Boone stand, the former laughing to himself as they walk to the open door and exit. The thud from the door being shut and locking once more bounces off of the walls, mixing in with Kieran's pitiful sobs. At least they didn't bind his hands behind his back again. 

"Kieran," my voice cracks, "Kieran, honey, listen to me. I need you to sit up, okay? I need you to untie my hands." Kieran continues to cry, his face pressed flat against the floor with his left hand stretched out in front of him. My heart breaks at the absolute pain he must be going through right now. "I know it hurts and I'm so sorry about that, but I need you to get me free. I can help you once I can use my hands, but you have to get up first, okay?"

Very slowly he begins to push himself up onto his knees, his damaged hand held in the air where nothing can touch it. When he turns around to me I very nearly lose it at the sight of his face. He's pale and there are tear tracks running down his cheeks, but he's stopped weeping. Now he's just silently crying. He scoots over to me and I twist around, holding out my arms behind me as far as possible. I feel his weak fingers fumble around for a few moments, trying to get it untied with only one hand. After two minutes they're finally loose enough that I can get them out the rest of the way myself. I tug the rope off and to the side, whirling around to face Kieran. 

He's clutching his hand to his chest, eyes closed tightly and lower lip trembling. I. Feel. Awful. 

I take the right sleeve of my shirt and begin to rip it off around my shoulder, needing the cloth so that I can wrap Kieran's hand with it. It doesn't even matter that this was one of my favorite shirts--I can always buy another. But Kieran can't get more fingers. 

"Give me your hand," I say quietly, trying to be as nice with my approach as possible since I'm the cause of all of this. Kieran weakly holds it out to me, shaking like a leaf. Now that those men are gone and it's just him and I, I feel more in control. I don't feel sick to my stomach and am ready to treat my patient. 

His hand is awful. There's still blood dripping out of the stubs and forming tiny puddles on the floor, the white from his bone sticking out and exposed to the air. This is not good. I wish I had  _something_ here with me that could possibly help us, but other than just being able to wrap his hand I can't do anything. 

Very carefully I begin to wrap my shirt sleeve around it, starting at his palm and winding it around. He jerks away when I first brush over the spot, more tears and pained sounds leaving his mouth, but I hold firm and just keep going. This is going to be awful for him, I know, and I feel horrible about it. At least for the others I was able to give them alcohol to help dull the pain but here I can't do anything. 

It takes a while, I make sure to go slow for his benefit, but I finally finish wrapping it. The cloth is already staining red and I know that the longer we're here the worse it's going to get for him, but this is the best I can do for now. When we get out--and we will get out--I'm going to have to pull out the nerves from his hand and sew the skin over. I would try to reattach the fingers but with them just sitting there on the ground where they can get bacteria it will be better for him to go on without them. 

It's at this point in time that I remember that I had Mary-Beth tell Arthur that I would be going to visit Kylie and not to worry like he did last time. So he won't come looking. Nobody will. 

We're on our own.

I settle with my back against the wall, having Kieran lay down on the ground with his head on my thigh so that I can try to soothe him. He holds his hand on his chest and closes his eyes, sniffling without saying a word. I lay one arm across his shoulders protectively, ready to defend him if those men come back. 

"I'm so sorry. So sorry." I whisper, feeling myself get choked up. 

"...'s not your fault," he says weakly. 

I let out a breath through my nose at the absurdity of his statement. It's completely my fault. "I want you to try to sleep, okay? I know it's going to be hard but sleeping will make the pain easier to deal with." He closes his eyes, taking in a ragged breath and delicately resting his left hand on top of his right. I'll get us out of this, or at least Kieran. I won't let him suffer more because of me. 

"I won't let them hurt you. Not again."

* * *

Hours pass. I'm not sure how much time. Eventually Kieran did fall asleep, but it was fitful and he whimpered almost the whole time. I tried to sleep but was afraid to in case those men came back and Kieran was left unprotected. 

Eventually the door opens again, startling me from the doze I had been slipping into. Boone walks in, this time without George. My hand hovers over Kieran protectively, the other clenched tightly in a fist and ready to attack. 

"You're comin' with me." He says, pointing a finger at me. He wants me? Not Kieran?

I glance down at Kieran, not wanting to cause more trouble but also not wanting to leave my friend alone. Boone must sense this because he rolls his eyes. 

"Just you. Get a move on, I don't have all day."

I hesitate and that annoys Boone so he places one hand on his gun threateningly. I move faster after that, gently lowering Kieran's head to the ground and pushing to my feet. My leg almost gives beneath me since this is the first I've actually stood on it, the pain flaring up once more from where it had gone dormant. It doesn't help that my other leg fell asleep from Kieran laying on it. 

"C'mon," Boone grabs my arm roughly and tugs, nearly sending me face-first to the floor. I stumble along behind him, getting one last glimpse at an unconscious Kieran before the door is shut. George smiles at me from where he had been standing guard, crossing his arms intimidatingly over his chest. Boone pulls again and I look forward, following blindly. 

The hall he leads me down is like something carved out of a ground. Are we in a basement of some kind? There's wooden beams here and there with stone supports scattered throughout, but majority of this place seems to be just plain earth. The ground beneath my boots is dried dirt, but there's moisture on the walls. I can feel it in the chill in the air. So we must be somewhere near water. Are we still near Saint Denis? The swamps would explain the water, unless they took us somewhere farther away that has a lake or even borders an ocean. 

"In here," Boone releases my arm and shoves me into a different room. "Sit down." 

There's a lone chair in the center of the room facing away from the door. Giving him one last glare I obey, walking over cautiously and sitting down. It's a plain wooden chair with no arm rests. Not the most comfortable thing in the world but I do suppose that it's better than sitting on the ground. 

I don't have to wait for very long. Not even a minute later there are footsteps lighter than George and Boone's that enters the room. I desperately want to look back but I get the feeling that the chair is facing away from the door for a reason. 

"Leave." 

I know this person isn't talking to me and my point is proven when moments later the door is shut after Boone apparently leaves me with this new man. He takes slow and calculated steps and it feels like his eyes are boring holes into my skin. I already had goosebumps from the chill but the longer this man stares at me and doesn't say anything the more uncomfortable I feel so it causes the hair on my arms and neck to stand on end. 

"It's been real hard to find you." 

I want to say his voice sounds familiar, but it really doesn't. I can't recognize it. It has the same slight drawl as Dutch's, but it's higher pitched and he speaks confidently. 

"Had everyone on the look out and someway,  _somehow_ , you still managed to give 'em the slip."

He finally walks in front of me and I can finally get a look at his face. 

And I instantly regret it.

Standing here in front of me is none other than Colm O'Driscoll himself. The bastard. I saw him briefly enough when I played the game that his face stuck, but he didn't talk a whole lot so no wonder I didn't remember him. 

He reaches forward and grabs my face similarly to how George did. I have to restrain from biting his hand as well. Since this is the head honcho himself I have to be extra careful. Who knows how he would react if I tried to fight him. I can't have that going back to Kieran. 

I narrow my eyes, baring my teeth at him. He smiles wickedly at that. 

"I always did like my women feisty."

"Get your hand off me." I say lowly. 

He straightens up and plants his hands on his hips, the gun in his holster taunting me. "You're just like her."

"Like who?" I ask in confusion. Every since I arrived here Colm and his men have been a problem with me. And I don't know why. I don't want to be here, and I certainly don't want to be anywhere near this man, but this is my chance to finally get some answers and I need to take advantage of that. "Why have you been up my ass?"

As soon as he whirls around with a smirk on his face I realize that I probably could have worded that better, but it just slipped out and there's no way I can take that back now. 

"Got quite the mouth on you, don't ya? I'm sure someone as smart as you can figure it out."

I look up at him incredulously, my hands tightening into fists on my lap. "Are you fucking kidding me? Figure it out? I don't even fucking  _know_ yo--"

I'm cut off with a sharp slap across my face. My cheek flares with heat as my head is jerked to the side. I face forward again slowly, staring blankly at the wall and avoiding Colm's furious gaze. 

"I said I like 'em feisty, not disrespectful." He spits at me, getting close enough to my face that I can smell his cigar-laced breath brush across my face. I struggle not to recoil in disgust. 

He straightens up, adjusting his holster and clearing his throat. He takes his hat off his head and brushes the brim of some dust as he turns his back to me. 

"Imagine my surprise when Patrick rides to camp with this picture of a girl who looks just like my Lenora, only she's  _alive_." He turns back to me and tosses something into my lap. I look down at it, picking the small square up and turning it around. 

It's me. But it's 2018  _me_. I'm lying in a grass field, dressed in my sweats and t-shirt. I'm either asleep or just completely knocked out--I can't really tell. But this is the picture of me they have.  _This_ is how they were spreading word about what I looked like. The picture was taken pretty close up so it's easy to make out what my face looks like. 

A million questions run through my head. Where was this taken? How long was I like this before they found me? Why did they take a  _picture_ of me and not just take me straight to Colm? I'm left with more questions than answers after this reveal. 

"My brother, rest his damned soul, had himself a fine woman. Lenora was the love of my life. After that son of a bitch Dutch Van Der Linde killed my brother, she took her own life before I could get to her. I know that if I had been a little quicker then she would still be alive today and we'd be happily married, but that damn bullet was faster." He looks me over from head to toe, smiling as he shakes his head. "But my Lenora has found a way back to me. And I won't mess it up this time."

_What?_

He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out, grabbing my left hand tightly in his own and thrusting something on my ring finger. I yank my hand away and look down in horror at the ring he left behind. 

_He wants to marry me?_

"You're a fool if you think I'm actually going to marry you." I tell him, ready to tug the ring off and chuck it in his face when he clucks his tongue. I pause, unsure why he seems so confident with himself that I'll actually go through with this. 

"If you take that ring off I'll cut off every last one of ole' Kieran's fingers and feed them to you myself."

I swallow, feeling sick suddenly as I stop what I was doing and let the ring rest heavily on my hand. It feels like it weighs ten pounds. 

"I already have it all planned out--had it planned out since Patrick brought me that there picture--and it's goin' to be beautiful. We'll attack that damn Van Der Linde and his people, and then wed while we collect the bounty on their heads. A beautiful way to start a family I think."

My head jerks up. "You're going to  _what?"_

He smiles at me. "Oh, yes. They won't see it comin'. Imagine their surprise when they see the head of their very own traitor held in his hands and riding a horse to their own front door. It'll take them by surprise enough for a good ambush."

"I'll kill you myself if you think you're going to hurt Dutch or any of his people."

_"Dutch is the reason my Lenora is dead!"_ He yells, getting right up in my face again, eyes blazing with an unspoken fury. I try not to appear fazed by it on the outside but I'm in a foreign place, being told that I have to marry a very bad man. I'm terrified and have no clue what to do. 

Another thought comes to mind. "You don't know where they're at. Kieran won't tell you and I sure as hell won't spill. Doesn't that throw a wrench in your plans?"

He doesn't seem thrown off by my words. "That's a good point there, little missy. But you should focus more on what dress you're gonna be wearin' at the altar because don't you worry,  _I'll find a way_." He frowns suddenly, putting his hat back on rougher than necessary. "That Arthur Morgan will get his share too. Bastard kills the men at my camp and thinks he can get away with it? Kills  _Patrick_ and thinks it's okay by me?" He shakes his head. "Not on my watch."

I frown. "Arthur Morgan hasn't been near any of your camps!"

I pull his attention away from his own thoughts with that. He narrows his eyes and stands tall in front of me, trying to use his height to intimidate me. "And how would you know that?"

"I know more than I let on,  _asshole_."

"Arthur Morgan was in my camp when he broke out, killed them and went back off to Dutch. I  _know_ this."

Shit. Is he talking about back when Arthur was kidnapped and then Charles, Sadie, Lenny and I went back to get his stuff?

"Stabbed my number one in the throat with a knife. Son of a bitch left him there to bleed out in the middle of camp."

_Fuck._

"He's gonna pay for that. That whole damn gang is gonna p--"

"Arthur didn't kill your precious Patrick." I sneer, my lips curling up into an evil grin of my own as I  _finally_ find leverage. "The woman you're going to marry did."

Colm looks slightly taken aback by this confession. "What're you sayin'?"

I stand to my feet, fists clenched tightly by my sides and ready to fight as I step into Colm's personal space, looking up at him with a sneer. 

_"I killed Patrick."_


	35. Horsemen, Apocalypses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juicy. I have an idea for the next chapter and I feel like you guys will enjoy it and be pleasantly surprised. I just hope I do it well LOL.
> 
> Poor Lily. I'm putting my girl through so much shit and I feel bad. But who doesn't love some good hurt/comfort? I know I doooo.
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos! Keep em comin!

"Leave her alone!"

I pry my eyes open, squinting even though there's a lack of light in the room. I groan, twisting my head around and looking at the source of sound. There are sounds of a struggle near my head, followed by a light clinking by my ear. 

After confessing to Colm that I'm the one who killed Patrick he was caught off guard. Judging by the surprise that was on his face he wasn't expecting his 'future bride' to be the one who killed his best friend. If one could even call him that. 

He lashed out in anger, hitting me across the face. I was partially expecting it at the time though so I wasn't knocked to the ground. I stumbled but righted myself and just...started  _laughing_. I don't know why. Maybe it was the fear in my body trying to expel itself and that was the only way how, but I do know that it was probably the wrong  _time_ to do something like that. As I sat there with a split lip dribbling blood down my chin laughing in near-hysterics, Colm just got angrier and angrier. He shouted something to one of the men outside the room and then something hit the back of my head in the same place as before. 

I know that it was the same place as before because now my head is threatening to  _implode_ , scattering parts of my brain all over the wall. The throbbing has grown and spread far past my occipital lobe all the way clear to my frontal lobe. With each heartbeat of mine the pain echoes through the inside of my skull and it's hard not to wince. 

When I finally get my eyes open I see what was the cause of the metallic sound by my ear. There's a knife on the ground, right in front of my face. Not too big, but large enough to deal some damage. I look at what the commotion is all about, finding Kieran standing over my prone body protectively and doing his best to fend off the O'Driscoll that came into our room. While they're occupied I slip my hand in behind Kieran's foot and curl my fingers around the handle, quickly sliding the weapon under my back, shielding it from their view. Without further injuring myself I manage to shove it down the waistband of my pants and hide it in case they happen to roll my onto my front. 

Kieran is finally given a hard enough shove that he falls onto his back beside me on the ground. I weakly push myself to a sitting position, holding a hand out across him and stopping the O'Driscoll from continuing to antagonize him. The man, one whom I haven't yet had the  _pleasure_ of being introduced to, flits his eyes over to me, narrowing them and giving me a snarl. Word must have spread about what I did to their friend. Whatever contempt they held for me before has probably increased tenfold in the time that I've been unconscious. 

"Colm says it's time," the scumbag straightens up, glaring down at the two of us, "and you're to join him to watch."

"Huh?" Kieran says in confusion. I'm confused at first as well, unsure what it is this guy is talking about until I remember what Colm said to me. 

_Imagine their surprise when they see the head of their very own traitor held in his hands and riding a horse to their own front door._

They're going to behead Kieran.

"No," I say quietly, absolutely horrified. Kieran doesn't know this is going to happen. Dear god, I don't want him to even know that they're  _planning_ on doing this. I flinch at the pounding in my head but suppress it and focus on the bigger thing at hand. "You can't. I won't let you. You don't even know where they're camped at!"

A sinister smile spreads across his face at that. He chuckles lowly, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Oh, we  _know_. Y'all ain't as slick as ya like to think."

My heart speeds up.  _Fuck_. If they already know where the others are then there's no way for me to stop this from happening. But then the cold metal of the knife presses against the skin of my back, almost as if a reminder that it was there and waiting to be used. 

_Maybe..._

"C'mon," the man says, getting impatient. He reaches down and grabs me by the arm forcefully, hauling me to my feet. My head swims at the sudden movement. Black spots. Not a good sign. 

He whirls me around and grabs my arms, crossing them over one another behind my back and tying them together. Shit. This is going to make it even harder for me to try to do something if I don't have full use of my arms. 

"Just so you don't get any smart ideas," he says in my ear, and I can hear the grin in his voice. Fucker is probably getting off on this. Something is pressed to my spine and pushing me forward. "If you get any ideas she dies." He says to Kieran. 

Kieran says nothing, merely stands to his feet and moves in front of me to walk out the door, holding his left hand to his chest protectively. He casts me one unsure look before moving to where the man directs him. The O'Driscoll moves from standing behind me to walking alongside me, removing the gun from my back and tucking it back in the holster so he can hold onto my arm once more. Very discreetly I try to dig out the knife from my pants. I know I have to be careful because if this guy catches on to what I'm doing then he might very well kill Kieran and I both right here and now. 

By the time we're being led up a set of stairs I've managed to work it between my hands and hide it from view so that nobody can tell I have it. I would try to cut the rope around my wrists, but I realize that would completely ruin what little plan I have right now. One step at a time. 

There's a door at the end of the hallway and Kieran is told to open it. Sunlight shines through as soon as it's cracked and my head once more screams at me with pain. My knees weaken and my left leg almost crumbles beneath me. The O'Driscoll holds me up with his grip on my arm, shaking me slightly to tell me to get a hold of myself before leading Kieran and I outside. I blink, trying to adjust to suddenly having bright light after nothing but dimness for the past...day? Two days? What even is time anymore.

"Finally," Colm's disgusting voice reaches my ears, grating on my nerves, "thought you'd never show up. How ya feelin', Darlin'?"

The way he uses Arthur's pet name for me instantly causes me to lash out. "Don't fucking call me that." I hiss, baring my teeth. The slight smirk he had been wearing turns down into a frown.

"Well, I had been hopin' we could start over but I see apparently not."

The man holding my arm sputters over his words. "Start over? Boss, she  _killed_ Patr--"

Colm holds up a hand with a scowl, silencing him. There are only four of them out here, Colm and the man beside me included. The other two are standing off to the side, watching the exchange with careful eyes. I notice one of them is holding an axe. 

Colm looks away from me and over at Kieran, studying the younger man from head to toe. He walks over slowly, assessing him and his worth. He stops a foot away, shaking his head and letting out a sigh of what sounds like disappointment. 

"Such a waste," he comments to himself. Kieran looks over at me with fearful eyes, completely oblivious to what Colm has planned. Colm nods over Kieran's shoulder at the two men and they nod back, pushing off the wall they were leaning on and starting to walk over to Kieran. 

No, no no no no...

"Don't," I say, gaining Colm's attention. I can tell my words have no affect on him. "Don't do this. You don't need to do this!"

The man who was holding my arm releases it and moves to Kieran, shoving him down to his knees. Kieran hits the ground hard, swallowing audibly and looking between everyone fearfully. Though he might not know specifically what is going on, I can tell he knows he's going to die. 

"We don't like traitors 'round here," Colm says by way of explanation. The man with the axe stops a few feet behind Kieran and starts to swing it experimentally. That sick fuck wanted me here so that I would be forced to watch my own friend's beheading. It's  _sick_. 

There's a few horses off to the side, most likely belonging to the O'Driscolls. One of them is probably going to be carrying Kieran's body if what Colm said he was going to do is true. But they're  _so close_... If only there was a way for Kieran and I to get to one of them we could get out of here. Get to the others. But he's surrounded and I have no use with my hands, just this knife that's a little bigger than a letter opener in my hands. 

The last man puts a boot on Kieran's back and forces him to lean forward onto the ground. He's breathing heavily, panicking. The man who led us out leans down and tilts Kieran's head to expose his neck to the air. Axe-man steps forward, rolling his shoulders and raising the blade above his head, arms straining and ready to come down. 

"Lily!" Kieran sobs.

 _"Wait!"_ I cry, grasping at the one lone idea that pops into my head. Every pauses, Colm looking at me curiously. I look down at Kieran who's crying on the ground and find the confidence to go through with what I have in mind. 

I take a cautious step towards Colm. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to kill him to send a message to the others, there are other ways!"

Colm smiles, shaking his head. "I think this will send the  _perfect_ message--"

"No! No, there are other ways. Please, just, just don't  _kill_ him. He doesn't deserve it. He hasn't done anything."

Colm loses his smile. "He betrayed us and sold us to that low-life!"

I swallow past the lump in my throat and take another step forwards. "Then how about this: if you let him live, then I'll...I'll marry you. No struggling. I'll do it willingly."

Kieran's head tilts up in surprise at that. "Lily, don't--"

The man down on the ground beside him pushes his head back down forcefully, nearly making Kieran eat literal dirt. 

Colm gives me a skeptical look, like he's completely unsure as to where this change of heart came from. And he should be. Hell, I don't even know where it came from but it's out in the open now and I'm just going to have to roll with it. 

"Say I went along with this," he starts, briefly looking me over from head to toe, "why should I suddenly believe this change of heart? Just minutes ago you were cussin' me out." 

"If you let him live," I say shakily, stepping up until I'm now directly under Colm's nose and can smell the cigar smoke rolling off him, "I will marry you. I will be the Lenora you lost."

Kieran says something but it's muffled by the ground beneath him. Colm studies me under the brim of his hat, eyes narrowed and untrustworthy. After what feels like an hour he gives a curt nod, waving one hand at the other O'Driscolls and using the other to reach over and curl around my waist, tugging me until my back is pressed to his front and he can encircle me in his arms. The men step back from Kieran and he clambers to his feet, looking back at them fearfully for a moment before turning his wide eyes on me. The two men go back to their post against the wall and the other one rolls his eyes, walking back into the building that we were held in. 

Colm sniffs at my hair, burying his nose into my neck. I close my eyes and fight down the bile that threatens to rise at being so close to such a disgusting man. He grips my hips tightly in his hands, his thumb brushing up and down in what I know is supposed to be a soothing gesture but just makes me sick. 

"He's still gonna be punished," he whispers in my ear, and I know he's talking about Kieran, "and Dutch Van Der Linde is still goin' to die."

Taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves, I fumble around, letting Colm get nice and comfortable. 

"That's what you think."

Without any warning I shove the knife down and into any piece of him I can reach. He pulls back with a cry of pain, stumbling away from me. I briefly look back and see that the knife landed in the top of his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. I shoved it a good few inches in so that's going to be a  _bitch_ to pull out. 

I don't waste any more time, running towards the horses and calling for Kieran to follow. He does without hesitation, running past me and towards the horse on the end. While he's unhitching it I look back and see that one of the remaining O'Driscolls has gone to Colm's aid while the one with the axe is currently running after us. 

"Lily!" 

Kieran's yell draws my attention and I see he's got the horse ready. Before I can blink he's lifting me up onto the saddle since I can't use my hands, stifling the cry of pain that threatens to come out when he's forced to use his mauled hand. My head spins once more and I legitimately almost throw up at the sudden movement. He moves up not a second after that into the saddle in front of me and grabs the reigns, flicking them and urging the horse to take off quickly. I'm forced to use some serious thigh grip to stay on since I'm not technically in the saddle and my hands are still bound behind my back. 

Shouts rise up from behind us and looking back I see that more men have come out from the house and are mounting their horses, chasing us down. I vaguely see the shape of Colm and two men helping him inside the house, limping the whole way. The image brings a smile to my face.

A sudden gunshot has me ducking and trying to tuck my head down to hide by Kieran's back. He ducks as well, flicking the reigns and kicking the horse's sides harder to get them to move faster. Poor horse is already breathing hard from being forced to take off at short notice and keep up the same tortuous pace. Somewhere down the dirt path we break out from the tree line that leads to the house we were being held in and Kieran veers left, forced to reach back and awkwardly hold my shirt so that I don't go flying off at the sharp turn. 

We take off again, turning onto a main path and down a hill. There's a stream nearby, and off in the distance I think I can see a lone rider heading our way. If he knows what's good for him he'll turn tail and ride away. 

More gunshots sound up, hitting a tree off to my left and sending chips of wood flying. Kieran tugs harshly on the reigns and forces the horse to turn to the right, cutting across the stream and to the other side. There are boulders stuck in the middle of the stream and he weaves the horse behind it, giving us a semblance of cover while we try to get out of this mess. 

"I know where we are," he yells back at me as we emerge on the other side and take off up the hill. The pants coming from the horse's nostrils lets me know how hard this is for him to be galloping uphill with not one but  _two_ people on his back. If we make it out of this alive I'm giving him a whole plate of sugar cubes. "We're not too far from Saint Denis, and even closer to Shady Belle."

"They probably stayed close so that they could attack them as soon as possible," I try to come up with an explanation. Kieran doesn't answer me, too focused on getting us away from the stampede of horses behind us. 

As we crest the hill and begin our way down the other side we're forced to slow down so that the horse doesn't stumble and send us rolling. This gives the O'Driscolls a chance to catch up to us. I look back and spot about six or seven of them, but I don't doubt that more of them will be joining them soon. They slow down as well and actually take time to aim their guns, firing at us. 

 _"Fuck,"_ Kieran cries as a bullet grazes his shoulder. Just a few inches from my head. We head left and around a corner, out of their sight. Instead of going further down the hill like I expect him to he heads left, going back to the top. He quickly rips the handkerchief that was hanging around his neck off, balls it up, and throws it down the hill a good twenty feet. I don't understand the reasoning behind this until we enter a cluster of trees and he stops the horse, hiding us behind the thick leaves. He holds up a hand and just a few short seconds later I see the O'Driscolls come off the side and momentarily pause, glancing at the handkerchief before going further down the hill to the right and away from us. 

Nice job, Kieran. Very nice. 

We stay quiet for another minute, waiting for the sounds of the horses hooves to die down to the point where we can barely hear them anymore before emerging from our cover. I'm almost hyperventilating, feeling like I've just finished running a marathon even though it was the horse that did all the actual work. 

Kieran pants, breathing hard as well. He points off at the bottom of the hill and to the right, the opposite direction the O'Driscolls went when they got to the bottom of the hill. "That," he breathes, almost gasping for air, "that over there will lead us to Shady Belle. We're just north of Rhodes right now. We just have to go north and then east and we'll be there. Shouldn't be more than twenty minutes."

I let out a breath, leaning forward letting my body sag against his back. He straightens at the impact, reaching back with his good hand and holding onto my arm tightly. 

"Lily? Are you okay?"

I'm not. I'm really not. 

And just to punctuate that fact I decide that now is the perfect time to lean over the side of the horse and empty my stomach contents. It feels even worse than it normally would, considering I can't grab anything with my hands and my hair is partially out of its braid so it's dangling in my face. I feel Kieran whirl around in the saddle to try and face me, grabbing my hair and pulling it out of the way while also placing a hand between my shoulder blades to steady me. I vomit until there's nothing left but bile and just lay hunched over, dry-heaving. 

I finally straighten up, groaning and resting my forehead wearily on Kieran's back. I know that he must be out of his mind, unsure what to do with the way he just waves his hand around and barely touches me. 

"Lily, what--"

"Just ride," I mumble out, pushing down the urge to vomit some more. I'm dehydrated as it is, considering I haven't eaten anything or drank in a full day. "Get us to Shady Belle and we'll go from there."

"If you give me a few minutes I can get your hands--"

"We don't have a few minutes," I can't help but sound somewhat irritated, "the O'Driscolls are probably on their way to camp right now. We have to get there and warn Dutch. Just ride, Kieran. I'll be fine."

His mouth thins and I can tell he's not happy but he doesn't push me. He faces forwards again and sits forward in the saddle, briefly looking back to make sure that I'm there and not about to fall before getting the horse to go again. We continue at a gallop, not wanting to risk going easy on the horse and being found because of it. 

To keep myself awake and alert so that I don't go unconscious again or fall off I look at Kieran's shoulder where he was shot and think of what I'll need to sew it and clean it before dressing it. I'll have to have Susan bring me some good cloth and a special sewing kit for Kieran's hand, though. That's going to be a delicate job. Maybe I can get Charles or John or someone to go to Saint Denis and get me some chloroform. It's not the best but it'll do the job of putting him out so he won't feel the pain of what I'll have to do to fix his hand. 

I glance over his shoulder and see the way he's holding the reigns, how he's holding it tighter in his right hand than his left and only the thumb and forefinger of his left hand are wrapped around the rope. The sleeve of my shirt that I wrapped around it a few hours ago is no longer a cream color and instead now stained a dark red. He'll be lucky if he doesn't get an infection what with it being exposed to unsanitary germs for this long. That won't be fun to clean out. 

I must space out because not long after I resorted to listing the bones in the human body do I feel the horse being slowed down. I blink past the fog that has started to cloud my mind and look around, recognizing the area. Kieran has the horse slow to a trot and then a walk as we move past the stone walls of Shady Belle. The horse's hooves clomp down on the wooden planks of the small bridge and I look off to my right to see Mary-Beth straightening from where she must have been searching through one of the wagons. I don't hear any commotion so that means the O'Driscolls haven't gotten here yet and that everyone is still okay. 

"Kieran?" Mary-Beth asks, frowning as she takes in his disheveled appearance. She looks back at me and her confusion morphs into one of concern. "My Lord..."

"Dutch!" Kieran calls, his voice breaking on the name. He stops the horse and jumps down, groaning at the movement and walking back to me to make sure I'm okay. I nod sluggishly at him to say that I'm fine. 

"What the hell..." Arthur's enraged voice sounds like music to my ears even though it would terrify any other person. "Lily? Lily!"

I look up just in time to see him running up to the railing of the second floor beside Dutch, leaning on the wood to get a good look down at Kieran and I. Dutch is horrified, fingers curling tightly over the wood as his mouth drops open silently. 

"They're comin', Dutch!" Kieran tells him, pausing to groan as fresh blood leaks down his arm. 

"Who's coming?"

"The O'Driscolls." I strain for my voice to be heard. The others in the camp slowly start to gather at the front of the house, trying to hear and understand what exactly is going on here. "Colm is planning an ambush. They could be here any second."

 _"Colm?"_ Dutch growls, features turning down in a scowl. Why is he questioning what we're saying? He's wasting precious time.

"Yes! Everybody needs to get a weapon and prepare to defend themselves, they could be here soon. We tried to get them off our trail but I think they followed us. They know we're stayin' at Shady Belle--" Kieran takes over for me but Dutch cuts him off.

 _"What_ exactly is going on here?" 

"Lily I'm comin'," Arthur yells down at me. He hasn't taken his eyes off of me since he noticed me on the horse. He turns on his heel to run down the stairs when Dutch points behind us. 

"There, in the tree line..." his eyes widen as he sees something. "Everybody take cover! O'Driscoll boys are comin'!"

The first gunshot behind us goes off and is aimed straight at Mary-Beth. It hits the wooden planks of the wagon and she screams, bending over and trying to shield herself. Kieran jumps towards her and grabs her, shoving her down to the ground behind a wall and shielding her with his body. Though the O'Driscoll didn't hit Mary-Beth he did succeed in spooking the horse enough that it rears and I'm finally thrown off its back. He's probably happy about that. 

My back collides with the hard ground and all the air rushes out of my lungs at the impact. Though my eyes are open I see nothing but darkness for a few seconds. When I come back to my body I let out a moan, rolling over onto my side and trying to push past all the  _hurt_ I'm currently feeling. 

 _"Lily!"_ Arthur's yell reaches my ears, and I glance up to see his eyes full of fear as he tries to catch glimpses of me while dodging behind the support beams to avoid being hit by a bullet. 

I roll over onto my front and push up to my knees, slowly dragging one foot up and then the other while remaining crouched so as to stay a smaller target in case any of the O'Driscolls decides to aim my way. There are guns firing from both sides, angry and full of hatred. I go to move towards Kieran and Mary-Beth since that's the closest cover I can see but my bad leg suddenly caves beneath me and I fall face-first into the dirt. I don't even bother looking for the strength to get back up because I know I won't find it. 

There's yelling going on around me: Dutch giving out orders of who should fire where, Mary-Beth and Kieran talking about getting inside the house, Sadie coming around the side of the house with a pistol in each hand and just walking confidently into the throng of it while Javier tries to get her to stay back. 

And so I lay there. Unmoving. Unable to move even if I wanted to. I let out a puff of air and stir up the dust in front of me, clouding my vision. Or is that just the concussion? Hard to tell anymore. 

 _"--t of here,"_ a very low voice grabs my attention and I sluggishly look down at my feet to see John firing his gun towards the entrance of Shady Belle where majority of the O'Driscolls are hiding. After firing all of the bullets he has he simply holsters the gun and crouches down at my side, hands hesitating for a second over my body, unsure of where best to grab me without giving further injury. He finally settles on just grabbing me by my feet and dragging me quickly out of the line of fire and off to the side. 

 _"Get her out of there, Marston!"_ Arthur orders the younger man. 

John scowls and mumbles something I can't make out. Once we're a little off to the side he moves up and pulls me into a sitting position by my arms, giving me a sympathetic look as I whimper at the pain. 

"Sorry 'bout this," he says over the raucous and then proceeds to hoist me over his shoulder, firmly gripping my legs to his chest. Pained grunts come out of my mouth at the unwanted movement, but he's effective in getting me up and moving quickly around the back of the house to the rear entrance. He slips in through the door that Abigail is holding open and into the kitchen, heading into the living room and placing me on the ground as gently as he can. If I were in a better state of mind I would be able to better appreciate how kind that is of him, considering how rough John usually is. 

"Go help, John. We can take care of her." Abigail's soothing voice washes over me and I close my eyes, knowing that I'm not alone anymore. Someone cuts my hands free and the relief that floods through my arms has my entire body relaxing. 

"Lily, where are ya hurt?" Karen asks gently. I crack my eyes open, my vision blurry and not focusing in the slightest.

"'have a concussion," I mumble, and before I can further elaborate my eyes roll back inside my head and I pass out.


	36. Awakenings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH!!!! This chapter you guys..................be prepared. This was actually the most difficult chapter I've had to write yet, and you'll see why. I thought it was about time I do one in this style, though I think it may be the only one like it. I normally don't do this kind of thing just because I like continuity, but after all the nice comments and art pieces and kudos you have blessed me with, I thought I'd give a small treat. 
> 
> Dear God, I hope this chapter isn't awful LOL.
> 
> Thank you for everything. Seriously. You guys make me want to write more fanfiction, which I'm so happy to have discovered a few years ago. This is a beautiful community and I'm happy to make this small contribution.

***Arthur P.O.V.***

"Any casualties?!" I yell across the front lawn to where Charles is set up with his rifle. He shakes his head, taking aim and firing before speaking. 

"None...so far." 

I don't know how we didn't see this mess coming. One second Dutch and I are talking about the bank heist on the balcony and the next thing I see is Lily and Kieran riding in on a horse together. And it's not one of our horses, either. 

_ God _ , what did they do to her? I wanted to run down there myself as soon as I saw the condition she was in but then the shots started flying and I couldn't move. I had Marston run out and get her for me since he was downstairs and I was thankful that he did so without argument. But now this is a real pickle we've got ourselves into. I didn't even suspect that something was wrong. Sure, Lily didn't come back last night but Mary-Beth told me that she had gone to see that girl from the party in Saint Denis and figured she just lost track of time. I had half a mind to go find her but then I remembered how she acted when I did that last time and so I didn't go. I should've listened to my gut and known that something was wrong. 

And because I didn't listen to my gut, my girl was  _ hurt _ .

John chooses that moment to run around from the back of the house, pulling out a repeater of his own and lifting it to his shoulder. Three men go down before he turns in our direction and waves to the house. 

"We're gettin' overwhelmed! Fall back to the house!"

Javier and Bill listen to him, retreating to the safety of Shady Belle. Kieran helps Mary-Beth to her feet and escorts her back while crouched over her protectively should any bullets come in their direction. With each O'Driscoll that we take down I feel my temper rise from a simmer to absolutely boiling. A few of the bastards have the gull to drive a cart straight down the front pathway to the house. Charles and I make quick work of them and I watch with satisfaction as their bodies hit the dirt. That feeling only lasts for a small second as I watch a new wave of them come from where they must have been hiding farther back. 

"Damn,  _ damn _ ," I growl, hearing bullets fly past my head. "What in God's name is goin' on? We're overrun!"

"Just keep shootin'!" John yells, and I notice Charles fall back to the steps of the house alongside him. With their provided cover I turn and run back towards them, moving through the door that Dutch is holding open for us. The other two follow closely behind and they slam it shut, moving the cabinet off to the side so that it sits in front of the door and the O'Driscolls can't get in.

I take a breath, briefly checking myself over for any injuries and finding none. Dutch steps up to John, Charles and I, a stern expression on his face. Dutch is taking control of the situation, his brain moving faster than a bee towards honey as he tries to figure out the best way to deal with this. This-- _ this _ \--is the Dutch that I know. The one who shaped me into the man I am today. He's been missing for a while but it's nice to have him back. 

"Now everyone, I got this," Dutch says, "we need to get these windows covered quickly. John, you take the windows over there. Charles, you take the side door there. Arthur, you take the windows in the back, go!"

The three of us are moving before he's even done speaking. I run through the living room, glancing off to the side where the women are huddled and nearly trip over my own feet at the sight of Lily lying there on the floor. I falter, knowing that I have to guard the back windows but wanting nothing more than to look her over myself.  _ Why ain't she awake? _

"Arthur, go!" Abigail scolds, waving me off. Her and Karen are propping Lily up on a pillow made from a jacket, checking her over. "We got her, just go!"

I battle it over in my mind for half a second but finally decide that the best thing I can do for her right now is take care of this problem before getting to her. I push down the worry that forms in my chest and push it to the back, unable to open that bottle at the moment. 

I go to the back room and glance out the window, seeing that there are in fact some O'Driscolls who are trying to come in the rear way. I spot one of them making a run for it from the shed out back and use my elbow to break the window pane before firing through it. The man goes down with a spray of blood and when another pops his head up from behind a stack of logs I do the same to him. 

I move to the window on the other side and break it as well, taking out another four men before they finally see me shooting at them. With them distracted by me this gives John a chance to take out a good portion of them. 

"Is everyone accounted for?" I yell in the house, just now noticing that I didn't see a few people when I came in the house. My question is met with silence. "Hey! I said 'is everyone accounted for'?"

There's the breaking of glass followed by John yelling. "I don't know! I think!"

I lean away from the window as a flurry of bullets fly my way. 'I think' isn't the answer I want to hear right now. 

I suddenly hear screaming. "That's Mrs. Adler," I say, but I notice that it's  _ not  _ coming from inside the house. "She's still out there! Cover me!"

I barely hear John's 'okay' before I jump over the window ledge and then the porch railing. I break into a run towards the shed, hearing Sadie's grunts coming from that direction. An O'Driscoll stumbles backwards into view and then falls to the ground after a gun goes off.

"Sadie!" I round the corner just in time to see the woman herself shoving a knife into a man's throat, ripping it out and then doing the same to the other guy. The ferocity in her moves and absolute bitterness on her face takes me off guard. When I took her with me and we were ambushed by the Lemoyne Raiders I knew she wasn't afraid of a fight, but this? "Sadie..." 

She stands to her feet, scowling down at the man she just killed. Her clothes are soaked in blood, with splatters of it reaching all the way to her face. Her eyes lock with mine and some of the fire there goes away, but not very much. 

"Why didn't ya go inside the house?" I ask. 

She scoffs. "And miss all this?" She leans down and yanks her knife from the dead man's throat. "Come on, Arthur."

I pull out my gun and make sure it's fully loaded before turning back the way I came, thinking that she was talking of going back inside. "Now, we go back..." only I don't hear her behind me. I look back and see that she's taken off running towards the front of Shady Belle where the rest of the O'Driscolls are hiding out. "We need you in the house, Mrs. Adler!"

She doesn't listen to me and instead pulls out  _ another _ gun so she's double-wielding them. I let out a groan of frustration and take off after her, not about to leave her here by herself. I focus on the group over by the swamp, taking out the two men trying to get away in a boat along with three others hiding in the trees. While I'm reloading I see Sadie tackle an O'Driscoll to the ground, shoving the barrel of her gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger. She doesn't bat an eye when another one comes up behind her and aims his gun. I make quick work of that man and she nods in thanks. 

That woman is not afraid of death. 

One of the bastards gets too close to the side of the house and Charles uses that opportunity to jump out of the window and onto his back. He deals with him swiftly and I take care of the two others who round the front porch about to come to their fallen friend's aid. Charles gets up when he's done and the two of us follow the trail of Sadie's bodies she's leaving behind to where she's standing beside the fountain, firing both guns at the same time and chasing off the remaining men. Between the three of us with John also shooting from the second floor we make an imposing crew. 

The last of them turn tail and run off back into the woods, disappearing from view. Dutch moves up alongside me, lip curled as he watches them leave. 

"Cowards!" He yells after their retreating forms, voice cracking ever so slightly. 

Hosea walks out of the house and down a couple of steps, breathing heavily. He looks around the group of us standing outside. "We okay?"

"I think so..." Dutch looks around at the carnage, stepping over a body. 

"We need to get this place cleaned up," Hosea says, turning back inside the house. "Mr. Pearson, Miss Grimshaw!"

"Already taking care of it!" Grimshaw yells back. "C'mon now ladies, work! We have a lot to do." 

"Colm O'Driscoll..." Dutch mutters, looking down at the ground with his hands planted firmly on his hips. 

"That man can really hate," I say lowly, looking around us. 

Dutch looks up at me, deadly serious. "So can I, Arthur. So can I. We need to get movin', away from here."

I get what Dutch is saying. "So we need to start lookin' for another camp--"

"You're not thinking big enough," Dutch interrupts, almost scolding me, "you ain't seeing the vastness of our problems and our opportunities."

I frown at that. I don't like where he's going with this. Dutch has that look in his eye like he's concocting something that he thinks will be very good for us but will be damn near impossible to actually do. "I'm not sure I get you."

"You will, son," Dutch pats me on the shoulder as John walks over to us, "you will. Let's get this mess cleaned up and then we'll talk more." And with that he walks over to Hosea where the two then start to lift a body and carry it over to the swamp. The gators will be eating well tonight.

I suddenly feel something get lodged in my throat and before I can even think about it I'm coughing. It lasts for a few seconds, my face heating up from lack of oxygen. When I finally get it under control I suck in a deep lungful of air, shaking my head. John gives me a weird look, like he doesn't quite know what to make of me.

"Ya alright?"

I nod, waving him off. "Just choked on somethin'."

I don't need him to start worryin' about me like Lily does. One is more than enough, 'specially when it's coming from her. 'Sides, all this rapid change in the weather depending on where we're hiding out at just isn't good for my lungs. I'll probably get a cold or something like I normally do but I'll be fine. And if I get sick then Lily will be my doctor, waiting on me hand and foot. That's not exactly an unpleasant thing to look forward to. Speaking of...

"Have you checked on Lily?" John asks when it's just the two of us. 

I shake my head and turn, moving quickly towards the house. Bill and Javier step out of my way when they see the look on my face. I storm up the stairs and into the living room, seeing that Lily and the others are nowhere in sight. Did something happen? My mind starts to fill with horrible thoughts as to why she isn't where I last saw her. 

"Hosea helped 'em take her to your room," Miss Grimshaw explains as she passes through, giving me a knowing look. I thank her and take the steps two at a time to get to the top. I hear light chatter coming from my room and when I step inside I see Lily is on our bed, with Abigail standing over her. Jack is seated beneath the window, tear tracks running down his cheeks. When he sees me he hops to his feet and runs over, wrapping his arms around my legs. 

"Uncle Arthur," Jack whimpers, and without taking my eyes off my girl I bend down and scoop him up. He wraps his arms around my neck and buries his face in my shoulder to cry. I rub his back and walk over to his mother, pulling up the chair from the desk to the side of the bed and sitting down. The wood creaks beneath me and I situate Jack so that he's sitting on my lap now.

"How is she?" My voice comes out quieter than I wanted it to, but seeing Lily the way she is now chokes me up more than I care to admit.

They took her boots off and set them beside the bed. Her pants are torn in different places and covered in mud. Her shirt is the same, what was once a white color is now dirty with blood spots here and there. The entire right arm sleeve is missing, ripped straight from the shoulder. Her face is tilted towards us and in the quickly fading sunlight I can see the cut on her lip and bruise beginning to form on her face. There are bags under her eyes and dirt smudges on her cheeks.  _ She was just starting to get rid of them last marks made by those damn brothers that took her and Tilly. _

And yet even with all of that, she's still the most beautiful woman I ever saw.

"Not good," Abigail says quietly, gently taking the rest of Lily's hair out of the braid it was in. "She's bruised pretty bad. There's blood on the back of her head. Karen and I cleaned it but it's not a pretty sight."

I swallow the anger rising in my chest. I don't want to make a scene in front of Jack, but knowing that this happened, that  _ my Lily _ had this happen to her makes me want to go out there right now and hunt down Colm O'Driscoll myself. I know what the bastard is capable of doing.  I should've known better, I should've been here when she was planning on going to Saint Denis and gone  _ with _ her--

"Don't."

I tear my eyes away from Lily to give Abigail a confused look. "What?"

"I see that look on your face, Arthur Morgan. We don't know how this happened, but you couldn't have changed it."

"Couldn't have--! If I had been with her then none of this woulda happened."

Abigail shakes her head and starts to clean Lily's uncovered arm that's littered with small cuts when she pauses, eyes zeroing in on something. 

She turns away from Lily to look at me directly. The look on her face sets me on edge. Is there something worse? I stand up with Jack still in my arms, moving to Lily's side and looking her over, searching for a bullet wound of some kind. 

"What? What's wrong?" I try not to dwell on how frantic those words sound coming from my mouth. 

She reaches forward slowly and picks up Lily's left hand. "Arthur..."

I finally see what has her so speechless. There, sitting on Lily's finger, is a ring. A simple golden band that doesn't have a stone or anything, but is still shiny nevertheless. 

"Arthur, I didn't...I didn't know you two was engaged."

My mouth is dry, and I'm forced to place Jack back on the ground--much to his protest. I'm afraid that I'll drop him with how shaky I feel.

"We ain't," I tell her, my voice uneven. I take Lily's hand from her delicately, afraid of causing further harm. I don't like how limp and cold she feels. 

"Then whose ring is that?"

I shake my head. "I 'dunno."

And I don't. Lily...she wouldn't cheat on me or nothing, I know that. She left with Kieran but I think that man is smart enough to realize that if he tried to put the moves on my woman I'd skin him alive. Unless she's had this all along and just now decided to wear it? Or maybe she bought it in Saint Denis?

I try to come up with an explanation but I can't seem to find one that makes sense. I  _ do _ know that I don't like the sight of her wearing a ring that I didn't give her, 'specially when I don't know where it came from. So I reach down and gently pull it off, slipping it in my pocket much to Abigail's amusement. I ignore the smirk on her face and place Lily's hand back down by her side.

She walks behind me and picks up Jack, who has now started to calm down a little bit. I feel bad. All this commotion isn't good for raising a kid. I know that Abigail has it hard and she's just trying her best. I hope that one day we can get to a point where her and Marston can get out of this life and start a better one. 

I hope that one day I can do the same with Lily.

"Do you want me to come back and clean her up?" Abigail asks, shushing her son. 

I shake my head, taking my hat off with a sigh and tossing it on a side table. "No, I can take care of her. Anythin' I should know?"

Abigail makes a face. "Before she passed out she said somethin' 'bout a concussion. I think it's to do with what happened to her head. Just--just watch for that."

I nod, looking down at Lily as I hear Abigail and Jack leave the room. She thankfully shuts the door behind her on the way out. I use the bucket of water by the bed to wash some of the blood off my hands and face, not wanting to get any on her when I go to clean her up. I change out of my clothes quickly, not bothering to put a new shirt on. I'm hot and sweaty and plan on taking a bath after this anyway. 

I take Lily's pants and shirt off, forcing them to remain calm even as I reveal the marks that were left on her body. She acts strong on the outside, but I know she's hurting. The fading marks from the Foreman brothers are now joined by new and fresh bruises. My eyes slide down to see a dark mark about the size of my hand forming on her leg, already a mixture of purple and blues.  _Damn, did they break her leg?_

She lets out a small whimper as my fingers ghost along the edges of the wound and my heart clenches. Taking a deep breath I get the rag and dip it in the water, wringing out the excess liquid before starting to wash her as best I can. I start with her face, trying to be as gentle as possible. I know how to use a pencil and can wield a gun, but for some reason this task makes me feel like I have the biggest and clumsiest fingers in the world. When I press too hard she makes small noises, letting me know it hurts. If this was someone else I wouldn't be so nervous about doing this type of thing, but this isn't someone else. 

It isn't until right now that it hits me how much Lily does for this camp. Anytime someone has been hurt, whether it's Jack with a simple scrape or Lenny with that dynamite, she's been the one who's taken care of it. She always knows what to do and is so calm, so in  _control_. She doesn't deal with anyone's nonsense, even my own. 

Mary never called me out on what I did, but we were two fools in love that she just put up with it and we didn't really change. It wasn't until her father stepped in that she just up and left, didn't try to fix us. But Lily tells me when she doesn't like something because she wants to actually be with me. She doesn't want to live just a happy life herself, she wants one for me as well. 

And to find someone who's willing to go find you when no one else is, bring you back from the brink of death and care for you, give you an actual reason to want to keep going...that's hard to do.

_ So how the hell did I get so lucky with findin' her? _

I take my time washing her down and eventually the water turns a murky brown from all the dirt. I dry her off and just slip one of my button up shirts around her so that she doesn't need moved too much. She doesn't wake up through any of this and the only thing that tells me she's even still alive is the tiny sounds she makes every once in a while. I cover her up with the blanket, tucking her in and pushing a strand of her soft blonde hair behind her ear. I suddenly remember what Abigail told me, and using my finger I turn her head to the side so I can see the back of it. 

At the base of her skull, matted down and darker than the rest of her hair from water, is the area that Abigail must have been talking about. The skin is torn up there and still bleeding, although it's very slow and starting to clot. I don't even realize that I had reached out a hand until my fingers brush against it and she moans, leaning her head away even in her sleep. I pull my hand back and slide it across my face, suddenly feeling very tired. I want nothing more than to crawl into bed alongside her and hold her close to me, just to know that she's okay now and that I'm with her, but I don't know that. I don't know what the hell all a concussion does. That's just another one of her fancy doctor words to me. But I don't need to know what it means, because she would be there to take care of it. To explain it to me.

But what am I supposed to do when it's happening to  _her?_

"Arthur!"

I'm pulled from my sulking when Kieran knocks on the door. I feel something start to thump inside of my head. I don't really want anyone near me right now. I just want to be alone for a while with her. 

There's more knocking on the door, this time a little more hesitant. "Arthur?"

I let out an annoyed sigh, pushing up to my feet and moving over to the door. I open it, scowling down at the once-O'Driscoll. Not sure what the hell he is now, though I remind myself not to be too harsh with him. Lily seems to like him, much as I don't quite like  _that_. But I also know that he's been good to the gang. He helps out with the chores, doesn't try to start any fights or say something just plain mean, which is more than I can say about Micah when he first joined us. Son of a bitch that he is.

Kieran looks up at me, disheveled as all hell. There's blood on his shirt and he's missing his hat. His hair is in disarray and he's pale, nearly shaking in his boots. Damn, I don't scare him that much, do I?

"The hell's wrong with you?" I mutter, looking him over from head to toe. My gaze lingers on his left hand that's wrapped in a red cloth and held tight against his chest. 

He swallows visibly, eyes nervously looking into the room before focusing back on me. I narrow my eyes and shut the door a little bit at that, not wanting him to see Lily in the state she is. 

"W-where's Lily?"

"She's restin'," I tell him, trying to make the  _'so go away'_  clear without saying it. He looks disappointed, looking down at the ground as he nodding his head. 

"I, uh, just wanted to make sure she was okay. And I was hopin' she could help me with, well," he holds up his hand as an answer. That's when I notice that the cloth on his hand wasn't originally red, but the blood soaking through it made it that way. 

"Get your hand cut off?" I'm surprised. 

He glances down at it, seeming to pale even more. "Lost a couple fingers. This is Lily's sleeve. She said she was goin' to fix me up."

I hate the ball of guilt that settles in the pit of my stomach--tiny as it may be. "Shit, kid, she can't help ya right now."

He nods, as if he understands. "I get that she's tired--"

"She ain't tired," I sigh, unable to stop myself from glancing back at her. She's still sleeping on the bed, head still turned away to face the wall. I watch her chest rise and fall for a few seconds before turning back to Kieran. "She got hurt. Somethin' with her head. I couldn't wake her up right now if I wanted to." And I want to, more than he knows. More than anyone knows. 

I just want her to wake up and tell me everything's going to be okay. That she's going to be okay. That  _we're_ going to be okay.

"Damn," Kieran mutters under his breath, wincing as he moves his hand around, "I didn't know they hurt her that bad."

That catches my attention real quick. "Who? Who hurt her?"

Kieran gives me a sad look. "The O'Driscolls came for us when we were at Saint Denis. They was only gonna take me, but then she followed and they grabbed her too. I'm so sorry, Arthur. I really am. It's all my fault this happened to her. That  _any_ of this happened."

Had I been who I was six months ago I might have agreed with him. I might have cursed his name to the moon and back and maybe even put a bullet between his eyes for all the trouble he's caused us. 

But, much as I may hate to admit it, I'm not the same man. I've changed. Some may say for the worse, but Lily would say for the better. And that's all I need to know. 

"Don't...don't blame yourself." I sigh, scrunching my face up and running a hand through my hair. I hate having talks like these. "There were a lot of things a lot of us could've done to stop this, myself included."

Kieran frowns at me. "But--"

"No buts," I shake my head. "Just accept it."

Kieran looks ready to argue but he doesn't say anything more about it. "Well, the O'Driscolls that took us wasn't nice people."

"They never are." I say dryly.

He nods, shifting from foot to foot. "The one guy grabbed Lily's face and so she bit him. As punishment they cut off the fingers on my hand where she bit the other guy. She feels awful, I know it. I don't want her to. It ain't her fault."

One part of me swells with pride at hearing my baby defending herself and raising Cain with those bastards, but the other part of me knows how sweet and caring Lily is, and how bad she must've felt. 

"Then while I was asleep one of the guys took her into another room. I don't know where she went, though I'm guessin' it was to talk to Colm--"

"Colm?" I interrupt, confused. "What the hell does Colm want with her?"

Kieran shakes his head. "Not sure, but I could hear the other guys talkin' about how she was gonna pay for what she did to Patrick. Bastard had it comin' to him."

I frown. "Who the hell is Patrick?"

"He was Colm's right-hand man. Colm relied on him for everythin'. Lily apparently told Colm that she's the one that killed him."

If I hadn't been holding onto the door frame I'm pretty sure I would've fallen to the ground. "She  _what?"_

Kieran nods slowly, unsure of how to react to me right now. My knuckles turn white against the wood from how hard I'm holding onto it, trying to ground myself. My breathing becomes heavier as I feel the anger I bottled up so long ago start to leak out. What happened that Lily was put in a situation where she needed to kill?

_And why didn't I know about it?_

"I-I don't know what happened, I wasn't there. Then next thing I knew they was tossin' her back in the room. She was unconscious, and I'm guessin' that Colm roughed her up. When they came back a few hours later I tried to stop them from touchin' her but with my hand bein' the way that it is I was barely a force ta be reckoned with. They restrained her and took us outside." Kieran goes real quiet, looking off into the distance. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds and I begin to think that he's done talking when he looks up at me, a shine in his eyes. 

"They was goin' to cut my head off, Arthur. She saved me."

My eyebrows raise. It's not unheard of for Colm O'Driscoll to send a message to people by beheading them and sending the bodies back to the families or friends, but it sure is brutal and disgusting as all hell. 

"Yeah," I say, clearing my throat to get past the thickness, "that sounds like her."

"She's a good woman," Kieran says quietly, holding his left hand lightly, "and I wish nothin' but the best for the two of you. Take care of her. There ain't many like her."

I nod, watching him turn and walk away. "Kieran," I call out, watching as he stops on the fourth step and looks back at me over his shoulder. "Thank, uh, thank you for gettin' her back to me. You've saved my life and hers now. I won't forget that. Go to Miss Grimshaw and have her take care of your hand there. When Lily's better I'm sure she'll do some of her doctorin' on it."

Kieran nods, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. He walks down the rest of the stairs and out of my sight as I shut the door and walk back over to the chair, sitting down and feeling my knees pop. I take her left hand in my own, trying to give her some of my warmth. I lift it to my lips and press a kiss to her knuckles, briefly glancing at the area where Abigail and I found that ring. It feels like it weighs ten pounds, sitting there in my pocket. I don't like the way I felt seeing that ring on her finger. And so as I sit there watching her rest and heal, taking in each and every beautiful feature of hers, I make a promise. A man like me is damn lucky to have a woman like her. 

And if she's going to be wearing anybody's ring, it's going to be  _mine._

 


	37. Everything Comes to Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I ran out of time to finish the chapter last night so I had to finish it after work today. There will still be an update on Wednesday, don't worry!
> 
> Some of you have been asking about Arthur's TB since that last chapter... I'm not sure if I've stated it here yet or not, but one thing I believe in when I write stories are happy endings. Some bad shit may happen along the way (and I'm neither confirming nor denying he has it at this point), but there will be a happy ending. I generally detest stories that don't, so I'm not about to be a hypocrite. Just be patient with me!
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, kudos, love, everything! And hello to the new readers who have just now caught up with this story!

_"When are you going to settle down? You're a doctor, surely you know that the older a woman is the harder and riskier it is for her to have childr--"_

_"Mom." I interrupt, sighing into the phone and rubbing my temples. "I'm happy where I'm at right now. I don't know if I even want kids, but if I do I'll know when the right time is."_

_"You don't like kids?!?"_

_"That's not what I said!" I sputter, glaring at Cam as he laughs across the table at me. "I love kids. Maybe one day I'll want them, but if I haven't met anyone who makes me want to think of having kids then why worry about it now? When I know I'll know."_

_"What about that Cameron? He's a nice boy." My dad adds in the background._

_"Am I on speakerphone?"_

_"You're always on speakerphone, sweetie."_

_"Cam is just a friend," the man in question raises a brow curiously at me, "that would be like me marrying my brother."_

_Cam makes a face, fake-gagging and getting a smile out of me. I miss the first few words of what my mother says in response, but I'm ready for this conversation to be over so I don't sweat it._

_"--and she's due in a few months. She wants a midwife for this birth, because so many people have recommended it."_

_She's talking about my sister having her second child. If she wants to push an eight-pound child out of her vagina without an epidural then she can feel free. I've heard enough horror stories and seen enough births to know that there's no way I would be able to survive that without some kind of pain-killer._

_"I'm sure that Lucy will be fine. I've gotta go, Mom. I'll talk to you guys later."_

_"You better!" Dad yells in the back._

_"Bye, honey."_

_"Bye. Tell Lee I said hi."_

_"You know, you could actually call your brother every once in a while instead of making us your messengers?"_

_"And you could also press him about starting a family, considering he's older than me and can't seem to stick with one girl for more than three months?"_

_"Lily!"_

_"Goodbye, mother."_

_I hang up the phone with a roll of my eyes, not bothering to try to hear her talk about my inappropriate comment, true as it may have been. I talk to Lee, just not that often. I have a full time job and he's working on their ranch most of the time. It's hard work, and he understands. When we do get the chance to talk though it's like no time has passed. The same goes with my sister. She fills me in on everything happening with her and Doug and it's like I'm there with them. For the most part my family is understanding of me not being able to talk to them all the time, so I'm lucky like that._

_"You should take a vacation and fly out to visit your family soon." Cam doesn't look at me as he says this, innocently stirring the spoon in his coffee. The two of us were in the middle of our lunch break in the cafeteria once again when my mother called me. Cam thinks it's hilarious that she presses these topics on me and I just find it completely annoying._

_"I'll fly out when Lucy is closer to her due date. The whole family is going to their house to be there for the arrival of my niece or nephew or whatever it is they're having."_

_"She doesn't know?"_

_"Nope. Doug wanted it to be a surprise."_

_He hums, leaning back in his chair with a groan and cracking his back. He smirks at me, glancing down at the phone briefly. "So your mom wants me to marry you?"_

_I roll my eyes. "Shut up."_

_"How many kids do you want? Where do you want the house? I bet you're the kind of person who wants the white picket fence and two--no, three--cats in the house in the suburbs--"_

_"Shut up!" I laugh, crumpling my sandwich wrapper up and throwing it at his head. "First of all, how dare you. Second of all, I'll have three_ dogs _in my house, maybe a cat or two, I'm not partial. Third of all, as long as I have space to breathe I don't care what area I live in. Fourth--"_

_"Damn, I didn't know you actually thought about this."_

_"--if you keep this up then I'll tell Amy we're getting married and she'll beat your ass to the moon and back." I finish with a grin as the smirk falls off his face._

_He narrows his eyes and points a finger at me threateningly. "You wouldn't."_

_I lean forward, almost close enough for his finger to hit me on the nose. "Try me."_

_He chuckles, shaking his head. He knows that our teasing is all in good fun. I'm really lucky to have a friend like Cam here with me. Watching he and Amy's relationship evolve in front of me here at the hospital has been so entertaining, and hearing him gush to me about everything he loves about her has been nothing but sweet. I really am living my best life._

_"So if I'm off the table then that just leaves that Arthur fellow."_

_What did he just say? Did I mishear him or something? "What?"_

_Cam rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "We see how you two look at each other. It's just a matter of time until_ he's _the one who you end up at the house with the picket fence with."_

_Arthur. His face flashes through my mind and I'm left thoroughly confused. "How do you know Arthur?"_

_Cam gives me a funny look. "You talk about him all the time."_

_"I..." I trail off, unsure of what's going on. Cam and Arthur have never met, and I don't really talk about the video game that often to Cam. "You mean when I play Red Dead?"_

_"No...your boyfriend, Lily." He pushes away from his chair, standing and walking behind me. "What, did you hit your head or something? You're acting weird." He thunks me on the back of my head, and normally such an action would barely faze me but for some reason absolute pain radiates through my skull._

_I reach a hand back and feel the area tentatively, bringing my fingers back in front of me and seeing them covered in blood._

_"What the fuck?"_

* * *

Pressure inside the skull. A headache. A migraine. Nausea. Vomiting. Confusion. All of these are signs of a concussion. As soon as I take a breath that shakes me from the slumber I had been in these symptoms attack me in full force, pulling a groan from deep inside my chest that I can't hold back even if I wanted to. And though it may be considered an old wives tale, audibly expressing my discomfort sort of helps to relieve the pain. 

"Darlin'?"

I inhale deeply, feeling my joints creak inside my body from disuse. I pry my eyelids open, inwardly cringing at how sticky they are and the resistance that I'm presented with at the simple action. It's not that bright inside whatever room I'm currently located in. I turn my head to the side and give my eyes a few seconds to solidify the blurry shapes into a solid image. A mercifully cold cloth is pressed to my forehead gently, swiping across and down the sides of my face. It quells some of the turmoil my stomach is under and helps me to stabilize, getting a tiny foot planted in the here and now. 

"...Arthur?" My voice is croaky and gross and I'm suddenly aware of how thirsty I am. A large hand connected to an even larger arm is currently across my eyes, holding the cloth on my skin. When he pulls back he leaves the cloth folded and resting on my forehead. Arthur is frowning at me from where he's seated in a chair that's pulled alongside the bed I'm laying in. Judging by the room and the items inside I deduce that we're in Arthur's room and I'm in his bed. Our bed. His bed? Thinking on that too much just hurts my head more so I stop. 

"How ya feelin'?"

"Like shit."

Arthur chuckles uneasily, roving his eyes from my head down to my toes and back. "I can imagine."

"Feels like a recurring theme to me lately."

Arthur hums, unable to stop himself from grimacing for a moment before he wipes it off his face like it was never there. "I know, baby girl. I..." He sighs, facial features pinching together to show just how upset he is, "it's killin' me to see you this way."

I feel my chest tighten at how choked up he sounds saying those few words. I can tell by the shine in his eyes that he's truly upset about this. And knowing how much Arthur hates getting emotional, sharing his feelings and everything...well now I want to cry.

"Arthur," I go to talk but stop when I wince at the rawness of my throat, "water?" 

He doesn't hesitate in standing and walking over to the desk, taking the can sitting there and pouring some of that blessed liquid into a cup. He carries it over and I push myself up onto my elbows, letting him hold the glass as I take a careful sip. I down almost the whole thing, immediately missing it when he sets it back down on the table. I lay back down, embarrassed at the amount of energy that simple task took from me. 

"How long have I been out?"

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of him. "Almost three days." He picks up my left hand and holds it between his two. "Camp's been worried sick. Abigail said somethin' about you mentionin' a...what was it? Concussion? And then you was gone. Mary-Beth wanted to take you into Saint Denis to the doc there but Hosea didn't think it was a good idea, in case any more of them O'Driscolls was around and waitin' for a chance to take you away again." I don't miss the way his hands tighten around mine ever so slightly at his words.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to get his attention, "look at me." He looks up with sad eyes. "You don't blame yourself for this, do you? Because there was  _nothing_ you could have done. You know that? Right?"

He looks back down at my hand, bringing it up to his face and pressing it to his cheek with a sigh. As I turn it over and brush my thumb across his stubble he takes the chance to press a delicate kiss to the inside of my wrist. I carefully but firmly turn his face until it's pointing in my direction once again. 

"I'm serious. I was with Kieran. I chose to go after him. Everything that happened happened because of  _my_ choices."

"If I had been there then I could've stopped it." He murmurs. "Mary-Beth told me you was in town and that you had said not to worry. But I did anyways. I should've known at this point to go with my gut. I felt that somethin' was off, was  _wrong_ and yet I--"

"Arthur." I say firmly, sliding my hand down to his chin to grasp it so that he'll stop talking. "Stop. This guilt complex you have going on? Doesn't fly with me. Especially when you don't need to feel this way."

We stare at each other for a few seconds as he mulls over my words. He finally closes his eyes with a sigh and nuzzles his cheek into my palm, hanging his head down as if he's ashamed. 

_Ashamed._

Nope. Not going to work. 

I remove my hand and the cloth on my forehead and sit up, grimacing at the sledgehammer that hits the inside of my skull in response to the sudden movement. Arthur lifts his head and watches me with concern. I twist my torso to the side and grab two handfuls of his shirt, tugging him towards me. He doesn't resist and allows it to happen but he's confused, I can tell. When he's close enough I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him. He's tense, probably not expecting this kind of response but less than a second later he's responding in kind and hugging me to him just as tightly. 

"I love you so much," I say quietly, "but you need to realize that you're not going to always be there for me. Not with the life we currently live. Shit is going to hit the fan and there's nothing you or I can do to stop it. So stop feeling like you can control what happens."

His arms, though tight around my torso, are still light enough and careful not to squeeze  _too_ tight should he hurt me. He's more careful with his actions than he thinks, more attentive and caring than he probably cares to realize. And that's just one of the things I love about him. 

He buries his nose into my shoulder and lets out a breath,  _finally_ starting to relax. 

He pulls away just enough so that he can look me in the eye. "I'll go along with what ya said as long as you do the same."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"Kieran stopped by," he starts and my blood runs cold as I remember everything that happened. He must notice the change in my demeanor because he places his thumb and forefinger on my chin gently, tipping it up so that I'm forced to look at him. "And he doesn't want you to feel bad 'bout what happened to him."

I shake my head, unwinding my arms from him and retreating into a shell of sorts. "That's different, Arthur. He lost his  _fingers_ because of me. Literally because of me. That was a direct response, while you had nothing to do with what happened to me. It's different so my words don't apply to what happened there."

He shakes his head. "Then I guess I'm just as lucky as you."

"Arthur!"

"If I had been there then you two wouldn't have been taken in the first place. There are many places that the blame could be put. If you don't want me to put it on myself, then you can can't put it on you either."

I shut my mouth, wanting to argue with his logic but knowing that no matter what I say he won't let me get away with it. I lean back against the wall, wanting to remain sitting up instead of risking falling asleep again. It's not good for someone with a concussion, especially since I already broke the cardinal role regarding that type of injury. 

"Anythin' I can do to...help ya?" Arthur looks lost, simply sitting there in his chair and watching as I try to arrange myself comfortably on the bed. 

"Keep me awake for a while," I answer, "people who get concussions aren't really supposed to sleep it off."

"What does that mean?"

I take a deep breath. "Well...a concussion is when a persons brain hits the inside of their skull and can cause injury. It can range anywhere from a grade 1 concussion to a grade 3."

"What do ya think you have?"

I reach back, skimming my fingers lightly over the area and mentally listing all of the things I've felt since being struck not once but  _twice_. "At least a 2. Loss of consciousness doesn't normally happen in a grade 1 or 2 concussion but is common for a grade 3. I haven't experienced any amnesia or anything that I know of though so that's why I'm hesitant to say grade 3." My eyes drop down to where my hands rest in my lap. "I remember everything that happened."

I pause, noticing that something is missing from my hand. I glance around, wondering if it fell off or something. I spot it anywhere on the bed or floor so I don't know where it could have gotten to.

"What? What're you lookin' for?"

I frown, holding up my left hand. "When I was- well," I sigh, shaking my head with slight disgust, "I talked to Colm when Kieran and I were wherever it is they had us."

Arthur nods, his features hardening as I say that wretched man's name. "Kieran mentioned you bein' brought to that bastard."

"He's sick in the head, Arthur." I say, scrunching my face up in mild disgust. "He kept going on about how I was Lenora reincarnated or some shit, whoever the fuck that is."

 _"Lenora?"_ Arthur asks, bewildered. He sits up straight, hands gripping his knees. "He said you was  _Lenora?"_

I nod my head slowly, surprised that Arthur knows who it is that I'm talking about. "You know who she is?"

He swears under his breath, standing to his feet and walking out our little doors to the balcony. The sun is low on the horizon, thank God. Too much light wouldn't be good for me right now. 

"Dutch!" Arthur calls down at the ground below. He walks out of view for a second and calls the man's name once more. 

 _"What?"_ Dutch hollers back. 

"Come up here! Hosea too." Arthur tells him before walking back inside and shutting the doors behind him once more. He sits down in the chair again, dragging it even closer to the bed (if that's even possible at this point) and muttering under his breath.

"Arthur? Arthur." I interrupt his mumbling, his bright eyes snapping up to my face like he completely forgot I'm still here with him for a moment. "What's the big deal?"

"What else did he say? After he brought up Lenora."

I bite my lip, wondering how I should phrase this. I know Arthur won't be  _happy_ about it, but I also don't want to work him up enough to the point where he'll ride out on his own to find Colm and kill him. Even though the bastard may  _deserve_ it. 

"He wanted me to marry him."

"He  _what--!"_

"Arthur?" Dutch asks, pushing the door to our room open and stepping inside quickly, Hosea close behind. The two of them look at us, frowning with concern. "What's the commotion all about?"

"How are you doing, Lily?" Hosea asks, stepping around Dutch and walking over to the bed, smiling gently down at me. I return it with a tight one of my own and shrug lightly. 

"Head hurts like a bitch but nothing I can't handle. There's not really any medicine I can take for this."

Hosea nods seriously. "I heard that you were hit on the head pretty hard. Please make sure to let us know if there's anything we can get you."

Arthur stands to his feet and faces the two men, blocking me from view a little bit in the process. Though I don't like being figuratively and literally cut off from the conversation this at least gives me a good time to appreciate Arthur's ass. 

"He called her Lenora, Dutch." Arthur is basically hissing as he points at me without looking.  _"Lenora._ The bastard ain't gonna stop if that's what he thinks she is."

The concern on Dutch's face morphs into a thundercloud as he processes Arthur's words. He steps around him and sits in the chair Arthur just vacated, looking at me intently. 

"Miss Lily, you're looking better." Dutch's attempt at flattery nearly makes me choke. 

I settle with a scoff and give him an 'are you serious' look. "I look like death warmed over, Dutch. You don't need to sugarcoat it."

Dutch chuckles, dry as it may be. "Considering the state you were in when you rode in on that horse with Kieran, I'd say it's a step up."

"You have a point there."

Dutch suddenly turns serious, leaning forward in the chair slightly as he locks eyes with me. "Did you talk to Colm?"

I nod. "He took me to some back room to talk to me. I guess he didn't want to have a conversation in front of Kieran."

"What did he say?"

I glance up at Arthur, unsure if I should tell him about the proposal. But when he nods encouragingly I guess it's okay. I glance at Hosea standing with his arms crossed beside Arthur before looking back at Dutch. 

"He said that I was Lenora. He told me she was his brother's wife that he was in love with, but then when you killed him she killed herself out of grief and he didn't have a chance to swoop in and save the day. He blames you for her death. Which is a load of  _horse shit_ if you ask me."

The corner of Dutch's mouth tugs up in a smirk at that for the briefest of moments. "He's not wrong in what he said. Colm's brother was caught in the cross-fire and sadly he died. I only saw Lenora once, but I didn't even think of the resemblance between the two of you when I first met you. But now that it's been brought to my attention...I have to admit that there is something there."

"No," Arthur argues, shaking his head vehemently, "she don't look nothin' like that sea hag."

"She also doesn't act like her at all." Hosea adds. 

"They...he had a picture of me." My voice is quiet as I relive the moment Colm threw that photograph down on my lap. "I don't know what happened. It was from when you first found me." I look up at Arthur, watching his eyes soften as he stares down at me. "I was just...just  _laying_ there in the grass. And these bastards found me, took my picture and then some Patrick asshole rode off to show it to Colm."

I bristle as I say the man's name, and it doesn't escape my sight the way that Arthur stiffens as well. 

"Anything else?" Dutch prods.

"Dutch, maybe now isn't the best time to be questioning her. She should rest." Hosea tries to step in, probably noticing how uncomfortable I'm beginning to feel bringing back these memories. 

"Just a few more things and then we'll be out of your hair, I promise." Dutch places a hand on my leg reassuringly, patting it. I stare down at it, feeling the warmth there seep through the blanket and into my skin. I expected his touch to...not quite repulse me, but something bad. Surprisingly, it brings the comfort that I need. 

"He told me he was going to marry me." My words are barely above a whisper. "That he wasn't going to miss out on this second chance. Then a while later he took me outside and he was going to make me watch them cut Kieran's head off with an axe. A fucking  _axe_. I panicked and told him that I would go through with it. That I would marry him if he let Kieran live. He listened to me. He actually _listened_. Then I stabbed the fucker in the leg and Kieran and I hightailed it out of there." I feel the tears run down the sides of my face and though I want them to stop I know that this is more therapeutic for me than holding it in right now. I look up to see the three of them looking at me sadly. Well, at least Hosea and Dutch are. Arthur looks positively  _livid_. "He's not going to stop, is he?"

Dutch squeezes my leg reassuringly. "We won't let him get you again. You have my word on that. He's not going to touch you."

"I'll kill him before that happens." Arthur growls.

"For the time being I think it would be best though if you stayed close with someone from camp before going somewhere. If not Arthur, then Charles or John? Bill?" Hosea adds, nodding at the other two men in the room. 

"That was a very brave thing you did back there, Lily." Dutch says quietly, his tone telling me he's serious. "And thank you from the bottom of my heart for risking your life to warn us. I won't forget that. None of us will. This camp owes you."

I shake my head. "I didn't do it out of some hero complex. I'm not a hero, Dutch."

He chuckles, standing to his feet and patting my leg once more. "You believe what you want, and we'll do the same. Take it easy for a while, okay?" With a wink and a smile he exits the room, Hosea not far behind after also telling me to rest. 

When Arthur and I are left alone once more the silence seems louder than it did before. Something--I don't know what--has changed after that brief conversation. Arthur sits back down in his chair, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. We just stare at each other, not saying a word.

"What has you so tense?" I finally ask, confused as to why Arthur is staring at me in such a way. 

He doesn't answer my question right away. My words hang in the air, suspended and waiting for something to happen. He takes a breath, his body just barely moving from the effort of it all before he clears his throat. 

"Lily, there's one more thing we have to talk about."

For some reason I start to feel uneasy. "Okay..."

"When Kieran stopped by he also mentioned something else."

"Shit," I suddenly remember, frowning and having to restrain myself from hitting my forehead with my hand. "I was supposed to fix his hand. I can do it now if you'll go get him--"

"Lily." Arthur's tone is serious and makes me stop talking. Now I'm really worried. He's never talked to me like that before. 

"What?" I ask quietly. 

A muscle ticks in his jaw before he speaks again. "He told me...he told me about Patrick."

Shit.

"About how you told Colm you killed him."

_Fuck._


	38. Doctor Is In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's not dead! Sorry for the long wait these past couple of weeks--I got really sick and could barely hold my head up, let alone type out a chapter. Hope this makes up for it!
> 
> I honestly have no idea how much longer this story is going to be, but I hope to have it finished by the end of the summer. Will that actually happen? Who knows. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and reviews! They kept me going these past couple of weeks. 
> 
> A BIG HUGE GIANT shoutout to reddead-unhinged on tumblr once again for the BEAUTIFUL art!!! There's a piece done of Lily and Arthur at Bronte's party AND a bonus picture of Kylie!!! Go check them out their art is AMAZING!!!! Link will be down below!

_[Lily and Arthur Art](https://meobsessions.tumblr.com/post/185352271802/reddead-unhinged-more-fan-art-for-the-ever) _

_[Kylie Art](https://reddead-unhinged.tumblr.com/post/185427151812/kylie-this-time-heres-some-more-fan-art-for) _

* * *

 

_"_ _About how you told Colm you killed him."_

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck  _fuck_. I told Colm that when it was just the two of us, so how the hell did it get all the way back to Arthur? 

Kieran.

Kieran used to be with the O'Driscolls--he probably knew Patrick personally. I wonder if he liked him or also didn't care for him. That has to be how Arthur knows. I know that the O'Driscolls back there knew about me killing him, so Colm obviously wasn't afraid to spread the word about the horrible thing that I did. The way that I shoved a knife into a man's throat and watched him bleed to death at my feet. The image causes a shiver to race down my spine and I have to take a deep breath so that I don't lose my head. 

"Lily," Arthur murmurs gently, pulling me out of the mess that is my mind and back to the moment. He has a hand placed reassuringly on my leg, his face contorted with concern. "Is it true?"

Silence. The two of us stare at each other for a few moments, me desperately trying to think of ways to get out of this conversation and him gauging my every reaction. 

I can do this. This isn't some random person asking me, not Micah or John or Dutch. This is  _Arthur._ The person whom I trust the most in this world. 

Yet, if I trust him so much then why did I find it so hard to tell him about it before?

"I..." I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. He leans in closer, waiting patiently for me to continue. "It was an accident."

He frowns minutely, tilting his head to the side. "'m sure it was. But ya know that I wouldn't care if it wasn't, right? Long as ya didn't suddenly go out shootin' like Micah when he's drunk."

I laugh sardonically, shaking my head and looking down to where my fingers are fumbling with one another in my lap. I know that Arthur's jokes are just his way of trying to lighten the mood and make me feel better, but in all honesty it doesn't. It makes me feel worse. "Actually, it wasn't an accident."

A gentle brush on my cheek causes me to lift my eyes once more. Arthur's thumb moves across my cheek once more, catching the tears that I didn't even know I was shedding. "When?" His question, though only one word, is filled with more unanswered questions that he doesn't voice so that I can freely choose to answer if I wish. God, I love this man.

I sniffle. "After you escaped from their hideout, you were messed up. Real bad." Arthur nods. "Remember that day when I had Miss Grimshaw watch you and we went to go get your things back?"

Arthur's face hardens. He drops his hand down and places it on top of mine, squeezing tightly. "Yeah, I remember."

"Everything was fine. Sadie, Lenny, and Charles took care of the O'Driscolls while I waited on the sidelines. Everything was under control. Until _he_ showed up out of nowhere."

"I could've bought new things. Ya didn't need to go back and do that for me."

"But I wanted to." I say adamantly, making eye contact. Even though all of this happened before Arthur and I got together, I still cared for him deeply back then. "I know that stuff was important to you and the others were more than happy to help me while also helping you."

He shakes his head, looking off to the side for a second before giving me his attention once more. 

"Patrick snuck up on me. He put a gun to the back of my head and threatened to shoot me and Charles if we didn't surrender. He was alone. He had no chance of getting out of there alive. But I-I was  _scared_. I wasn't used to being put in that kind of situation; hell, I'm  _still_ not used to it. I'm from a place that's more like a city than country. Any country that I've lived in was peaceful and the only guns I was around were my brother's and those were used explicitly to go hunting. I never imagined I would ever see someone be murdered or-or  _shot_ in front of me." My shoulders shake as I start to cry, reliving the fear that had taken control of my mind and body in that moment. "Charles had given me a knife so I didn't even think--I just turned and put it right in his neck. He never saw it coming." I bury my face in my hands, hot tears leaking from my eyes as I think back to that awful day. 

There's the sound of movement and the feel of the bed dipping before two strong and comforting arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me close to them. I don't lift my head, just moving to accommodate Arthur so that I can cry into his chest more comfortably now.

"Darlin'," he murmurs lowly, one hand holding the back of my head gently while his chin rests on top, "I never wanted you to go through anythin' like that--'specially for someone like me. My job is ta  _protect_ you from that kind of thing, not be the reason for it."

"Arthur," I sniffle, clutching a handful of his shirt as I rest my cheek on his chest, "I'm not blaming you. What happened isn't your fault. That's part of the reason I never told you, because I knew you would blame yourself for it."

"What's the other part?"

My heart feels heavy in my chest, sinking down until it's nearly sitting in my stomach. I don't enjoy the tight feeling that being  _scared_ brings with it. "I was afraid. Afraid of how people would look at me, how they would treat me differently, that you wouldn't want anything to do with me if you knew."

Arthur's laughter shocks me. I lean back and look up at him in confusion. There's not quite an ear-splitting grin on his face, but it's pretty big. "Oh, Sweetpea, it's because of times like these that I wonder if you're too good to be livin' with us."

"Huh?"

Arthur gets his laughter under control, looking down at me with a serious look on his face, though there are traces of his smile left behind. "Each and every person in this here camp has killed. Some more than others, but nobody's innocent. 'cept for Jack. But if he stays around us much longer then I don't doubt that'll change." He holds my face carefully between his hands, completely different from the way Colm did. "But even though ya did kill that son of a bitch, ya did it to protect yourself."

My face scrunches up as I try not to cry again. "But I took an  _oath_ , I promised to save lives, not take them. I broke my number one code. I don't have many scruples but I try to live by the few that I do have. And where I'm from, a person doesn't easily get away with killing someone else. They go to jail for a long,  _long_ time if they don't just get executed themselves."

"You'll be fine." Arthur soothes, bringing me into his chest once more and holding me tightly. "None of us have been caught for what we done yet, I won't let nothin' happen to you."

I sigh, closing my eyes and breathing in Arthur's calming scent. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

* * *

"Hold still."

"It hurts."

"It's  _going_ to hurt. I don't have any pain medication yet."

Kieran frowns but finally stops fidgeting in his chair. Two hours after convincing Arthur that I was well enough to take care of Kieran's hand he helped me downstairs to the living room so that I could sit at the table that used to hold Lenny. The boy has finally been placed on a proper mattress, a little splurging that I convinced Dutch was necessary. The man is such a penny pincher that it's incredible he has the things he does now. Probably thanks to Molly. 

Miss Grimshaw did an...okay job of taking care of his hand. She wrapped it up real tight but didn't stitch it, apparently telling him that she would 'leave that for the professional', aka letting him sit with it until I was feeling well enough to do the job myself. I don't know whether to be touched that she thinks so highly of my work or to be annoyed that she didn't just do it herself. 

"The good news is that when it heals, it won't look  _too_ bad." I sigh, dipping the rag in the water basin that's already a dark red from the blood. I clean off the area on his hand once again and pick the needle back up, getting back to work. 

"The bad news?"

"You're missing two fingers." 

Kieran laughs dryly, wincing as I pull the needle through his skin. I wish there was a way to make this easier for him, but until Charles gets back with that medicine this is the best I can do. 

"Thank you...for this." Kieran says quietly, watching me work. 

I pause, glancing up at him briefly before continuing. "It's the least I can do."

"Ya saved my life. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. It's me who owes you."

Kieran scoffs. "Without you I'd be missin' my head."

I stop, placing my hands on the table a little harsher than I meant to. "And without me you'd still have your fingers."

The two of us fall silent after my outburst. I sigh, pressing my finger to the center of my forehead to try to fight off the headache I know is brewing. I could bring up the fact that Kieran told Arthur about Patrick, but I won't. He didn't know any better, and damn it all, the poor guy is missing two of his fingers because of me. I won't willingly make him feel any worse than he is right now. 

"I don't blame you." Kieran says quietly when I start back up. "Neither of us knew that was gonna happen. You're braver than I am."

"Don't." I choke out, not wanting to get emotional for the second time today. "Just--just _don't_."

After thirty minutes of me sewing his hand back into something presentable, Charles enters the home once more with...something close enough that should work for Kieran. I take it with a thanks and have him drink two tablespoons of the concoction, sympathizing with his grimace. I know that stuff probably tastes like wet mud. 

"Okay," I say after another hour of tedious work, "I think this is the best I can do. Now, you're not to do  _anything_ with this hand for at least two days, understand?" Kieran nods his head, his eyes half-lidded from the medicine I had him take. "I'm serious. If I see you so much as lifting a spoon with that hand I'll just cut it off. You don't want those stitches to rip out, because then the risk of infection will just get higher. I'm surprised you don't have one as it is."

Kieran nods, lifting his hand in the air and inspecting the cloth I wrapped around the stitches. I managed to sew the skin over top of the stumps so now his insides aren't exposed to the air. I had to pull a few nerves out, which I know was utter torture for him, but in the long run it's going to be for the best. 

"How's everythin' goin'?"

I look over Kieran's shoulder to see Mary-Beth walk into the room. She smiles sadly down at where Kieran is practically half-slumped on the table. She places a delicate hand on his shoulder and he smiles up at her tiredly. 

"About as good as it's going to get. He just needs to take it easy these next couple of days and he'll be fine."

Mary-Beth smiles at me. "Thank you, Lily. For everythin'. I'll take it from here." She helps Kieran to stand to his feet and together the two of them slowly walk out of the kitchen and most likely out to his tent. Or maybe hers? She seemed like she wanted to watch over him, but she shares a tent with Tilly so I don't know how she would feel about that. I'm just happy for Kieran that the girl he's been pining after is paying him some attention, though the reasoning behind it may be grim. 

"Feelin' any better?" Arthur asks, stepping inside the house. 

I lean back in my chair with a sigh, running a hand over my face. I throw the cloth back in the water with a small splash and watch as he walks over to my side. He sits himself down in the chair that Kieran just vacated, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. 

"Feel the same."

He frowns and nods his head. "Dutch wants me to meet him 'n Lenny in Saint Denis tomorrow. Don't know what for, but I said I would. You gonna be okay without me here?"

I nod. "I don't know if Lenny is ready to go back out yet. He was hurt pretty bad, surely Dutch understands that."

Arthur rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know. Probably a bit my fault that the kid's gettin' roped into this."

"Why?"

"Dutch asked who I'd want to help with a small heist. Said it wouldn't be nothin' too big and that we would be in 'n out before the Pinkertons even knew we was there. I suggested Lenny."

I sigh. "Arthur..."

"I know, I know. Didn't think that Dutch would be actin' this quick--and before I had the chance to say somethin' he had already told the kid and had him on board."

 

"Just be careful, okay?" I say quietly, leaning forward to take his hand in my own. "I need my cowboys here in one piece. Watch out for Lenny--he really shouldn't be out just yet but I guess I won't be able to stop him."

He glances down at our conjoined hands for a moment before raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. I smile bashfully at him, his own mouth curling up in a grin in response.

"Love it when ya smile," he murmurs, standing to his feet and walking over to press a kiss to the top of my head, "you should do it more often."

"Keep doing things like that and I will." I wink back at him. 

"Looks like the love birds are doin' just fine." John says as he walks into the living room. Arthur picks his hat back up and places it on top of his head. "How ya doin'?"

I give him a wan smile. "Haven't felt much different in the two minutes since the last person asked me how I felt. I'm getting better, thanks for asking."

John chuckles, nodding. "Grimshaw sent me in to ask if there's any supplies I could get ya from town."

I sit back in my chair, running over the list of supplies in my head. I haven't had a proper chance to go through the inventory of the medicinal wagon recently but I don't think too many supplies have been used up, so we should be doing pretty good. 

"Maybe more clean bandages, and some pain medication. As much as I hate to say it, even chloroform would work." Is there anything else I need from town?

A sudden thought pops into my head and I sit forward quickly, black spots entering the corners of my vision from the sudden movement. Arthur places a hand on my shoulder as he steadies me. 

"Take it slow, Darlin'."

"John," I ignore Arthur's concern,  "can you pick up a friend of mine? Bring her back here?"

John shares an unsure look with Arthur. "Depends: who is it?"

"Her name is Kylie, she owns the dress shop a few stores down from that tailor shop that Trelawny goes to?" I look up at Arthur, hoping he remembers who I'm talking about. "I was supposed to meet up with her a few days ago but...things changed."

Arthur looks down at me for a few moments with what looks like a million thoughts running through his mind. He finally looks over to John and nods his head once. 

"You sure 'bout this? Bringin' another person into camp? We got a lot of people on our trail as it is--do ya think Dutch would like it if more people knew where we was camped out?"

"If Lily says she can trust this Kylie then so can I." Arthur vouches for me, my chest warming at his words. 

"I'll talk to Dutch about it if I have to," I offer as I push out of my chair, "he's outside, right?"

Arthur places a hand on the small of my back as a gentle reminder that he's there should I falter. "I'll bring him in here. You just sit back down, all right?"

I nod, doing as he says as he walks out of the house leaving me alone with John.

"So how'd you get roped into running errands?" I ask teasingly as John leans against the wall. 

"Happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, I s'ppose." The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as he speaks, giving me the idea that he's joking and doesn't actually mind being sent out.

"You look surprisingly...well, content."

John shrugs. "Dutch says he's got a plan to finally get us out of here. I guess we're all just antsy since the O'Driscoll attack and with the Pinkertons breathin' down our necks all the time. It'll be good for all of us to get out of this area."

I couldn't agree more. I can tell that with each thing that happens the stress levels of every person in this camp are rising. Especially for Arthur. Dutch is running him raw and I don't know how much longer it's going to be until he's finally maxed out, but it surely has to be soon. 

Speaking of, I have to check Arthur's chest. God damn, I can't keep forgetting about this shit. I'm a doctor, I know better than to leave any symptom gone unchecked. 

"I... uh, well..." John trails off, looking at the ground with a furrowed brow as he struggles to come up with words to say. What could he possibly want to tell me that has him practically speechless?

"What?"

"I been thinkin'... and I guess after all the things that have happened these past few days have changed my opinion on a certain thing. I was hopin' that your offer to teach me ta... to swim was still available."

_He actually wants me to teach him??_

"John..." I trail off, unsure if this is some sick prank of his or something. "Of course I'll teach you. I'm not going to offer all those months ago and then suddenly take it back. The offer has always been there, waiting for you to take it." I can't help but tease him a little bit, just to lighten the mood. "It's a damn shame though that it took you  _this long_ to get your head on straight."

He looks up at me and chuckles, some of the tension that had been built up in his shoulders leaving. 

"Good, good. I'm glad. Figured that you're probably the best on to teach me, if anythin'." He turns somber. "When you came back from that O'Driscoll camp, we thought you was dead. Or at least half-dead. Guess it kicked some sense into all of us. Me, especially." He lets out a sigh. "You're important to these people, Lily. All of 'em. Me included, and I'll be man enough to be one of the few to admit it. Without you I wouldn't...Abigail 'n I wouldn't have Jack. It's thanks to you that I can appreciate havin' a son more than I did before. 'Sides, after watchin' you teach him to swim I can tell you'll be a helluva better teacher than Dutch or Arthur."

I clear my throat of the thickness that had begun to form and ignore the burning in the back of my eyes. I don't know where this sudden heart to heart confession came from but I'm not about to discourage him with my emotions. "Why's that?"

"When Dutch taught Arthur he just chucked him in the river and hoped for the best. Somethin' tells me that Arthur would do the same with me."

A burst of shocked laughter leaves me. "He  _what?"_

John laughs too. "Let me tell ya somethin': watchin' that whole thing didn't really make me want to learn to swim anymore than I did before."

"But I learned, didn't I?" Arthur interjects, joining the two of us with an easy smile on his face. Dutch walks in close behind him. 

"He didn't die, did he?" Dutch adds, winking in my direction. I laugh some more at that. I can just picture Dutch throwing a 12-year old Arthur into a lake or something and standing on the sidelines while Arthur struggles to keep his head above the water. 

"That's awful but hilarious to imagine." I laugh, shaking my head at the three men. They all laugh along, Dutch sitting in the chair that Arthur had previously been sitting in. 

"There's a method to my madness, Miss Lily."

"You're never teaching my kids to swim, that's for sure."

Dutch smiles warmly, glancing at Arthur and raising a brow in question. Arthur shrugs, looking at me with a grin. 

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Dutch asks, changing the topic. 

"I have a friend from town, Kylie Carnahan. She owns the dress shop in town. I was supposed to meet her a few days ago and I don't want her to worry that I didn't show up without a word so I was wondering if it would be all right that John bring her back here?"

Dutch leans back, rubbing his chin with one hand as he thinks over my request. "I don't know if it would be best to bring more people into camp, regardless of if they're friends or not. We don't want to lead a trail here."

I can see the logic behind Dutch's words, but there's a tiny problem--Kylie already knows we're at Shady Belle, but I'm not about to tell them that. If I did then they would ask if I told her, and even if I told them the truth that I  _didn't_ then they would ask how she already knew and that would just make things worse. 

"I promise that she's trustworthy. She's a good friend--she might even be able to help us."

That peaks Dutch's interest. "And how could she help us?"

"She owns that shop in town, right?" I say slowly, making this up as I go. I just want Kylie to have the okay to be here. I know she wouldn't bring harm to the camp but it's going to take some convincing on her  _and_ my part to make this happen. "She has connections, knows a lot of people. She could probably give some insightful information on certain people who are probably too rich for their own good." 

That makes a mischievous glint appear in Dutch's eye. He looks up at Arthur for confirmation. "You think we can trust this girl?"

Arthur hesitates, looking down at me only briefly before nodding. "Lily trusts her, and that's good enough for me. She does own that shop--I've been there. She probably does know a lot of people in town. It might be helpful."

"Might help us to get out of here faster," John adds, and I appreciate his help.

Dutch goes quiet for almost a full minute, thinking over the information presented to him. Finally he stands to his feet and nods down at me. "All right, she can be brought back here. But I will warn you, Lily, she will be kept under close watch. If she does something to betray this camp I can't make any promises that she'll be safe."

"I understand, but just know that you won't have to worry about that." I reassure him. 

He tips his hat. "I'm trusting you on this." And with that he leaves the room. 

"Well, guess I better head out then. I should be back in an hour with her, granted that she'll even come with me. How should I convince her that I'm not just some strange man?"

I laugh internally. One look at John and she'll definitely go with him but I have to tell John something so that he doesn't get suspicious. "Just tell her your name and say that Lily sent you. She'll come with you, don't worry."

He nods at me and then Arthur and then leaves the same way Dutch did. When we're finally alone I stand up again, Arthur once more there and ready to help me if I need it. 

"I'm just tired so I think I'll take a short nap before she gets here, okay?" 

"Lemme help ya upstairs," he takes a hold of one of my arms, leading me up the stairs. Once I'm settled in the bed he shuts the balcony doors so the light is dimmer in the room. 

"Can you wake me up in an hour? I don't want to sleep for too long."

"'Course, Darlin'." Arthur presses another kiss to my forehead, brushing the hair away before straightening and walking to the door. 

_Shit._ His chest. "Wait," I say, sitting up and pushing the blankets off, "come back here a second. I need to listen to your chest for a second."

Arthur pauses with a frown before turning back and sitting in the chair placed beside the bed. I shake my head and point at the bed, telling him with a single look that he needs to lay down. He scoffs but listens, stretching out on the mattress and folding his arms behind his head as a pillow. 

I scoot over to the edge and unbutton his shirt so that his chest is exposed to the air. He wriggles beneath my touch and I pause, raising a brow in question. 

"Yer hands are cold," he mumbles, closing his eyes as I run my fingers over his pectorals. In response to that I place both of my hands flat on his stomach and he lurches up off the bed with a shout, grabbing hold of my wrists and pulling them away from his body. 

I laugh so hard my eyes squint to the point where I can barely see. After a few seconds he starts to laugh too, taking my hands between his and lifting them to his mouth to blow hot air on them. It warms them up quickly and once they're good enough he places them back on his chest and lays down in the same position as before. 

"Okay," I say through giggles as I try to calm myself down, "when I say, you take deep breaths. It'll help me listen to your lungs."

"Why ya doin' this?"

"Last time I listened there was something in your chest and I had thought it would go away, but you were coughing the other day. Have you been coughing recently?"

Arthur ponders my question for a moment. "Kinda, but not really. Just some tickle every once in a while."

I frown. "That's not good. Usually a tickle becomes something worse later on." 

I push the sides of his shirt away and situate myself so that I can rest my head on his chest. I put my ear right above his chest and hear his breath hitch at the action.

"Yer ears are cold too--"

"Shh." I shush him, closing my eyes and concentrating on what I hear inside his body. He takes a deep breath when I say, exhaling a moment later. We do this three more times as I listen to different spots of his chest. 

It's weird. There's something small there, maybe a little louder than the last time I checked him out but nothing really... _big_. I sit up with a frown as I run through the possibilities of what this could mean. 

"What's my diagnosis, Doc?" Arthur props himself up on his elbows. 

"I don't know...but if it gets any worse, tell me? I need you in tip top shape."

He smirks at me. "Got somethin' special in mind?"

My eyes drag themselves from his face down to his bare torso, showing me all the muscles and the delicious way the waistband of his pants are resting on his hips. When I look back up at his eyes they've darkened, the smirk falling off his face into something more serious.

"We've got an hour, right?" I ask lowly, leaning forward until I'm a hair's width away from him.

"We can have longer if ya want," he says huskily, eyes locked on my lips. His eyes follow the movement of my tongue as it darts out to wet my lips. 

"We'll see," I answer, and then without another word the two of us meet in the middle. Our hands curl around one another in a lovers embrace as we kiss. 

Kylie can wait.

 


	39. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Fun chapter ahead with some special help from my friend with some Spanish--I'll put the translations at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! Some of you guys are getting reallyyyyyyyyyy close to what I'm planning on doing, but you're not quite there! It's so cool to read what you guess though. I love it!
> 
> Question: after the last few chapters, has your opinion on Kylie changed? I'm curious as to what you think I'm going to do with her. Have a great week!

"Lily?"

I crack an eye open at the hesitant knock on the door, just barely making out the blurry shape of Kylie as she pushes her way into the room. She pauses and puts her hands on her hips, giving me a smirk. 

"Kylie?"

"I can see that you've been busy." She laughs, shaking her head and turning to walk back out from where she came. "I'm coming back in less than ten minutes--doesn't matter if you're dressed at that point or not, so I suggest you put some clothes on while I give you the chance." She shuts the door behind her but I can just barely make out her muffled laughter. 

After Arthur and I enjoyed a good portion of time together I found out I was a  _lot_ more tired than I originally thought, and promptly fell asleep on top of him. Bless his soul, he didn't move me and just went to sleep himself. I'm sprawled out on top of his chest, the blanket draped over the two of us up to my shoulders. We're both naked so we're lucky to have the blanket, otherwise Kylie would've gotten an eyeful of the two of us. 

I push up off of him, noticing in the back of my mind that some of my headache has gone away and is now just reduced to a dull thumping. Arthur's blissfully unaware as he snores, one arm hanging off the side of the bed and the other limply resting on my back. It slides off and lands on the mattress when I sit up, taking the blanket with me and pulling it across my shoulders with a yawn. 

"Arthur," I say quietly, poking him in the stomach with my fingers lightly. His snoring abruptly cuts off and his eyes fly open, looking around wildly for the intrusion to his peaceful nap. He finally settles them on me and relaxes, letting out a deep breath. He grins lazily, folding one arm behind his head to prop it up while he places his other hand on my leg. "Kylie's here. We need to get dressed."

Arthur closes his eyes, humming. "She couldn't have come an hour later?"

I laugh softly, gently maneuvering myself so that I can climb off of him and stand to my feet. I move slowly, not wanting to cause any unnecessary dizzy spells. I leave the blanket behind and move over to the pile where we tossed our clothes, picking my things out from his. "John told us he'd be back within the hour. And here I thought he was slow."

"He normally is," Arthur grumbles as he sits up, "but the one time he ain't..."

I shut him up by tossing his shirt at his face. It hits the target and he falls back flat on the bed. 

"Hey!" He complains as he pulls it away from his eyes. "I was enjoyin' the show." He gives me a teasing glint that makes my face flush. 

"Enjoy the show another time," I chastise, "Kylie is coming back any minute, and she won't care if you're naked or not."

His face falls. "She was here? And ya just let 'er barge in?"

I nod. "She already saw more than she needed to, so put on some pants, Cowboy."

Arthur throws the blanket back and swings his legs over the edge, standing quickly to his feet and grabbing his bundle of clothes. "Yes ma'am. Why do I feel like I'm gettin' kicked out of my own room?"

"Because you are." I throw him a wink.

The two of us quickly get dressed--and just in time apparently because as soon as Arthur is done putting his last boot on there's a brief knock on the door before it's pushed open. Kylie walks in, glancing between the two of us quickly and over our forms to make sure that we're actually clothed this time. Satisfied, she smiles at me and steps all the way into the room. 

"That's better. Didn't want to get another-" she stops, her features quickly pulling down as she steps closer to me. One of her hands rises to cover her mouth in a silent gasp.  _"Lily._ What happened?!"

It's kind of funny, because for one whole second I have no clue what it is that she's talking about. Either I must still be very tired (which I am) or Arthur worked a little more of his magic on me than I knew. Once I remember what happened I grimace, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I look over to where Arthur has stood and is buckling his holsters back on his hips. 

"You didn't tell me I looked  _that_ bad." I complain to him. He could've warned me as to how bad I actually was. 

He walks over, briefly leaning down to press a warm kiss to the top of my head. "I think ya look beautiful." he murmurs. He stands up and nods at Kylie in greeting before walking over to the door. He waves goodbye to the two of us and then disappears. 

Kylie walks over and sits on the bed beside me, her eyes not leaving my face. Her dress poofs around us, the crinkling sound from the material louder than the thoughts swirling through my head. 

"Lily..." She trails off, at a loss for words. 

"I, uh, I followed Kieran." I offer helpfully. Her eyes widen and she gasps. 

_"No!"_ She stands quickly. "Lily, I told you he shouldn't be  _alone_ and to not let him leave camp. I didn't mean you were supposed to become his personal bodyguard!"

I throw my hands in the air. "Your words were cryptic--how was I supposed to know what you were talking about!"

She lets out a frustrated sigh. "Before Arthur showed up I was going to tell you that the O'Driscolls were going to take Kieran at some point. They were going to send him back into camp on his horse, his head cut off and being held in his hands."

My heart skips a beat. "Colm told me that he was going to do that."

She sits down again. I nearly get whiplash from how her mood continues to change. "You saw Colm?" She asks gently. 

I nod. "Kylie, it was  _sick_. I don't know if this was a real thing in the game or not, but it is here in this time. Colm thinks I'm the reincarnated version of this woman he was in love with. He wants me to  _marry_ him--or at least he did. I don't know if he does anymore, considering I nearly cut his dick off."

Her mouth drops open. "You  _what?"_

"They grabbed Kieran and I when we went into Saint Denis. They were originally just going to take him but when I chased after them they took me too. They brought us back to some O'Driscoll camp and took me to Colm. He's even worse in person. Being around that man just made me feel even worse for Arthur, considering the treatment he got from them when he was there."

Kylie nods sympathetically. "That was awful. I can't imagine what they put you through."

I suddenly remember something important. "They had my  _picture_. From when I first got here."

"To Shady Belle."

I shake my head. "No.  _Here_ here. I was in my sweatpants and everything."

She reaches forward and takes my hand in her own shaky one. "Where was it?"

I shrug. "I don't know. They took my picture and then..." I pause, remembering the man who first brought my picture to Colm. The man whose life I took that now has a name to go with his face. "Patrick, his right-hand man took it to Colm. They loaded me up and it was on the way to Colm that Arthur and Charles found me. I don't know where they found me. I know Patrick is dead," I swallow past the lump in my throat, "and I'm pretty sure that Arthur and Charles killed the other two men." 

Kylie nods, processing all the information that I told her. After a few moments of silence she peers up at me, hopeful. "Lily, you know what this means, right?"

I frown. "What?"

Her shaky grasp on me turns firm as a new wave of confidence flows through her. "It means we can go home. And I mean  _home_. Maybe if we find where it is that you were when you first got here we can figure something out! There has to be some significance around that area." 

Kylie is excited now, her eyes bright and her lips moving at a million miles a minute as she begins to plot how we can slip away and find the place where I was first found. She wants to leave, tonight if possible, and says that the two of us can ride out on our horses and maybe even be home by sunrise. 

_Home_. 

I've thought this through. I've had plenty of time for this burning question to sit in the back of my mind, to stew and simmer until I worked up the guts to broach it and  _really_ think about it. The funny thing? It turned out to not even be that hard of a question. I was scared, mostly of myself, of how I would react and what my answer would be. But now that I  _know_ and now the Kylie is once more bringing up the topic of going back 'home' to 2018, I find it easy to tell her my answer. 

"No."

She pauses midway through explaining to me what she's going to pack, some of the excitement fading from her eyes as she glances at me. "What did you just say?"

I shake my head, slowly at first and then more determined. I'm not going to be hesitant about this. I know what I want. 

"I said no. I'm not going back."

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "Going back where? To where they found you?"

"I'm not going back there, I'm not going back to 'our time', I'm just not going back. Period."

Kylie looks at me as if I've grown a third head. "You're not serious, are you?" When I just stare at her in response her voice rises in volume. "You're not  _serious!"_

"Kylie, listen to me." I say, turning to face her directly. "You already went back to the place in Saint Denis where you first arrived here, right?" She slowly nods. "And nothing happened. There was no magical sign or anything on how to get home.  _Nothing_. What makes you think that it would even be different if we went back to where  _I_ first showed up?"

"Lily," I can hear the frustration beginning to creep up in her tone, "we won't know unless we try. Don't you want to go home, get  _away_ from all of this?"

_"Away?_   My  _life_ is here."

Up on her feet she goes once again. "Your life is back in Pennsylvania in the hospital. This is just a  _video game!_ These people aren't real, none of this is  _real!"_

"None of this is real?" I ask, my own anger rising as I also stand to my feet. We're eye level now. I reach down and grab her hand, bringing it up to my face and placing it on one of the marks that was left there by Colm and his men. "This isn't real? My concussion isn't real? The bruise bigger than fucking  _Alaska_ on my shin isn't real? Of course this is real, Kylie! It's so real that Kieran was almost fucking beheaded in front of my eyes!" My body begins to feel hot from the anger that's building inside. "Do you  _know_ what it does to a person to see that shit? God, I've even killed a man! Don't tell me this isn't  _real_ , because I've never felt more alive in my life than I have being here among these 'video game' characters. They may have been that back in 2018, but here? Here they're as real as you or me. And who's to even say that it's still 2018 back there? We don't know! No time could have passed, the same amount of time here could have passed there, or we could be _dead_ back home! _We don't know!"_

She yanks her hand away, turning around and walking over to the balcony in silent anger. She pushes the doors open, walking outside and over to the railing. I follow after her silently and watch her carefully, unsure if she's going to explode or not do anything. She surveys the people while clenching her jaw, glancing from person to person as if assessing their 'realness'. A few of them stop and look up, confused as to this new person being in the camp but when they catch sight of me they either wave or nod before going back to their business. 

I give her a few minutes to calm down, watching as her white-knuckled grip on the railing gradually loosens and her displeasure morphs into something akin to...disappointment. 

"These people are my friends," I say quietly, looking over to where Jack is throwing a stick for Cain to fetch while Abigail and Mary-Beth fold clothes nearby, "these people are my  _family_. I can understand that after losing Georgia you'd want nothing more than to go home, but I have mine. It's right here."

"But all these bad things that have happened to you, all the things you've had to  _do_..." She asks quietly, "wouldn't you rather be home where you don't have to worry about it? Where you don't have to constantly worry about money or safety or  _basic necessities?"_

I can't help but laugh softly. "You're not getting my point. You keep using that word,  _home_ , but home isn't just a physical place. Home is where you make it out to be. Yes, I have one where we came from--but I also have one here. It's the people, not the place. We've moved around enough that I don't really have a physical place to call home yet." My eyes drift off to the side where Arthur is sitting at the table with Hosea, the two of them talking. Hosea grins and says something, causing Arthur shake his head with laughter. "But I definitely have one with this group."

I turn to find Kylie staring at me, an unreadable expression on her face. "I don't have anyone here like that. I wasn't lucky enough to find these people when I showed up in Saint Denis. I had to fend for myself in a land where I knew  _nobody_. I miss my family, my parents and siblings. I  _miss_ them."

I nod. "I miss mine too. I think about them a lot, about my friends I left behind at my job. But if I dwell on the past I would never be able to live in the future. You have to learn to move on, Kylie. There's no guarantee that we'll  _ever_ go back, so you have to make the best of what you have here." Feeling brave I step forward and embrace her, hugging her tightly. She does the same and hides her face in my shoulder, taking shuddering breaths. 

"I can't do it alone."

"You don't have to," I rub her back comfortingly, "that's what I'm here for. I'm so glad to have met you because you're what finally convinced me that I'm not alone. I want you to start to be around us more. Get acclimated to the gang and get to know the people. I  _know_ it will help. They're great," I pause, thinking of Micah, "well, at least majority of them are."

She pulls back with a short laugh, wiping at her watery eyes. She gives me a weak smile, once more considering the camp. "What makes you think they'll even want to talk to me?"

"I may or may not have told Dutch that you know some rich clients," I tell her sheepishly. She focuses me, startled. I give her an apologetic look. "Trust me, if you start talking to them about money they'll hang off your every word."

Kylie's expression suddenly darkens. "Oh, I know where they can get money."

I smile, placing a hand on her back. "Then let me introduce you to Dutch."

She smooths her dress and fixes her hair, nodding confidently. Once again she has morphed into that young woman that I met in the dress shop not too long ago, ready to take on the world. "Lead the way."

I gesture for her to go back inside and she does. I pause, looking back across Shady Belle, once more finding myself drawn to Arthur. He's gazing up at me, an easy-going smile on his face. He nods his head at me and I wave back before following after Kylie. 

Yeah, this is home.

* * *

 Dutch throws his head back and laughs, even slapping his knee for added affect. Kylie also laughs while I shake my head. What a  _horrible_ joke. 

"I did not know your friend was a comedian," Dutch looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "You should have brought her around here sooner. We could use a little more positivity in this camp!"

I laugh along but in the back of my mind I'm thinking back to the screaming match Kylie and I had less than an hour ago. Funny how quick things can change. 

"It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Mr. Van Der Linde," Kylie says politely as she stands to her feet. Dutch stands as well, polite as ever around newcomers. "I would love to talk to you again about the 'etiquette' that Saint Denis townsfolk insist on reminding you about every five minutes." She rolls her eyes and Dutch chuckles. 

"I would enjoy nothing more," he kisses the back of her knuckles and then the two of us exit her tent. 

When we're a few feet away she leans in close and mutters under her breath. "Was he just flirting with me?"

"Heavily," I whisper back, and then the two of us go off in a fit of giggles. It's times like these that I really do feel bad for Molly. Dutch is a womanizer and she has to put up with his constant flirting with other women, but then again, part of Dutch's personality is his charm. If she wants to be with the man then she has to be prepared to deal with all of his quirks.

I lead her over to Abigail and Mary-Beth, making quick introductions. Abigail is cautious of the woman, scrutinizing her clothes and probably not too impressed by what she has on. Kylie works in a dress shop so naturally she's going to dress a little...higher-maintenance than the average woman would on a daily basis. Mary-Beth is kind and courteous, wanting to get all the dirt on Kylie and the types of things she makes. The two of them hit it off quickly, the pile of clothes left forgotten as the two of them go deep into discussion. 

I sit down by Abigail with a sigh, wanting to rest for a moment. She pauses, looking me over before continuing with the pair of pants in her hands. 

"Ya all right?"

I nod, leaning forward and placing my chin in my hand. "Tired."

She scoffs. "Not surprised. 'Specially after what we just went through." She glances over to briefly check on her son. "Come over this way, Jack! Don't have that dog go tearin' through Swanson's tent. We don't need the mess."

I hear Jack's 'yes mama' and then he and Cain are off in another direction, once more playing around. 

"Whose ring?"

The question catches me off guard and I sit up fast enough to make my head start to hurt again. "What ring?"

"Y'know," she says quietly, not looking up from her current work, "the one you was wearin' when ya came back."

I completely forgot about that cursed thing. I noticed it was missing when I first woke up but then I had that conversation with Arthur and then he brought in Hosea and Dutch and all thought of it was wiped from my mind. How did Abigail know about it? 

"I, uh," I say, trying to get the words out past my dry mouth, "I don't know. It was gone when I woke up."

She stops and peeks up at me this time. She raises a brow. "Gone?"

I nod. "It was on my finger last I saw but then it wasn't. Maybe it fell off when my shirt was changed? I don't know." I narrow my eyes at her. "How did you know about the ring?"

She purses her lips. "Lily, who do ya think was the one to clean that head of yours while Arthur was out shootin' the O'Driscolls."

"Oh." I say, looking down at the ground for a moment. I regard her once more, throwing in my best pleading expression. "You didn't... _tell_ anyone about it, did you? I don't want people to get the wrong idea."

She looks exasperated with me. "That ain't any of my business." She goes quiet for a moment. "But I know Arthur weren't too happy 'bout it."

My eyes narrow as a thought pops into my head. "Do you know what happened to that ring?"

Abigail acts as though she didn't hear me speak, but as she continues to work on that pair of pants a smile slowly forms on her face. 

"You do!" I exclaim. "Abigail, where is it?"

"Why are you so worried about that thing anyway?" She asks, suddenly suspicious. "You plannin' on wearin' it around or somethin'?"

"What? No!" I'm disgusted at the  _thought_ of even wearing something that belonged to that man. "I'd like to do nothing more than chuck it into the bottom of the sea, but I know something like that has to be worth some money. I was going to sell it."

She relaxes a little bit at my response, apparently satisfied. "Yes, Arthur took it. Don't think he was too happy seein' ya wear it."

"Why?" I'm confused. It's just a piece of jewelry--why would Arthur be put off by it?

She gives me a gentle smile, almost as if she knows something that I don't but soon will. "You'll have ta talk to  _him_ about that, I'm afraid. I don't know what goes through that man's head. I have enough trouble as it is tryin' to figure out what goes through John's head."

I laugh. "I can only imagine. I know that Arthur can be hard to read sometimes, but John must be a damn  _Rosetta Stone_."

Abigail gives me a weird look. "I have no clue what you're talkin' 'bout."

Behind me I can hear Kylie laughing. I turn back to see Mary-Beth is also unsure of what's going on but Kylie heard my comment and thought it was funny. I laugh along with her, finally able to enjoy the fact that someone can understand my references, as dumb as they may be.

A sharp whistle draws our attention and we look over to see Javier walking past our small group, a sly grin on his face as he eyes Kylie up from head to toe. He slows down and briefly greets the rest of us before setting his sights on her. 

_"¿Quién es esta hermosa flor de sol?"_

Kylie stiffens, narrowing her eyes at him. I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I don't know very much Spanish, but from what I can make out he's practically cat-calling her. She peers at him with confusion, tilting her head to the side in mock innocence. 

_"¿Llamas a todos por nombres de flores?"_  

Javier falters, coming up short and nearly tripping over his own feet in the process of stopping. A short burst of laughter comes out of me before I can stop it. Kylie turns to me with a mischievous look in her eyes. 

"Is that how you got your name? Lily?" Are her and Javier talking about  _flowers?_ She turns her attentions back to him.  _"¿Cómo te llamas..._ Thistle?"

"Thistle?" Mary-Beth asks, as oblivious as to what's going on between these two as the rest of us. 

Javier stares at her for a few moments as if in a new light. A look of almost  _wonder_ passes over his face, like he just met someone he's only ever seen in his dreams. He straightens up, composing himself once more as he steps towards her, leaning down to take her hand in his and lift it to where it's just in front of his mouth. 

_"En realidad ellos me llaman_ Honeysuckle." He finishes with the softest brush of his lips over her skin. Kylie raises a brow at his self-assurance, though judging by the slight upturn of her lips she doesn't seem to be  _too_ against his behavior. 

I clear my throat, gaining Abigail and Mary-Beth's attention, but Kylie and Javier seem to be wrapped up in each other. "Javier, this is Kylie Carnahan. She's going to be joining us for a while."

_"Es un placer conocerte,_ Honeysuckle." Kylie says with a smile. Javier grins down at her. 

"Kylie is a Spanish teacher, did you know?" I explain to the three of them, watching as Abigail and Mary-Beth share a look of understanding. Javier seems delighted by this information. 

"You speak Spanish?"

Kylie laughs. "No, I just make a bunch of sounds and hope for the best."

"That's what it sounds like to me." I whisper to Abigail. She laughs at that. "No, but I wish I could speak Spanish. Javier offered to teach me but with two of them here I know I'll be picking it up a lot faster."

"Have you been around the camp yet?" Javier asks her, completely ignoring the rest of us. He offers his arm and she carefully takes it, throwing me a cautious look over her shoulder. I give her an encouraging smile and urge her to go. "I can show you around the area, then maybe I'll show you my _guitarra_."

"Oh yeah?" She goes along with him, the two quickly taking off in conversation with the words flowing between them.

"That was unexpected," Mary-Beth says once they're out of sight. I agree with her. 

"I didn't even think of how the two of them would hit it off." I shrug. 

"Well, I'm glad. Javier's been real quiet around here lately. Needed someone to set 'im straight."

"I think he'll be good for Kylie too," I add, "he'll remind her of some happier memories."

This will be good for her. Hopefully Javier can start to show her how it's not so bad being here, that there  _are_ good things here. I'm lucky enough to have Arthur to do that for me, I just hope she can find her own Arthur one day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¿Quién es esta hermosa flor de sol? - Who is this beautiful sunflower?
> 
> ¿Llamas a todos por nombres de flores? - Do you call everyone by flower names?
> 
> ¿Cómo te llamas...Thistle? - What's your name...Thistle?
> 
> En realidad ellos me llaman Honeysuckle - Actually they call me Honeysuckle
> 
> Guitarra - Guitar


	40. Kick Him to the Curb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a day late--busy as usual ahhhhh. But holy shit guys, this is chapter 40. I've written over 170,000 words for this story LOL. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. 
> 
> I'm going to try to not quite ~rush~ through these next couple of missions, but they're not very important for Lily so there won't be much action in the next chapter. Poor girl needs a break after everything I've put her through. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! Love you guys <3

"When's supper gonna be ready, Pearson?"

"Well you can eat it now, if ya want it  _cold_."

Micah scowls, shaking his head and turning to walk back into his tent. As he passes by Charles and I he sneers, turning his chin in the air and storming past. Charles and I share a look before going back to our business.

"Wonder what has him all in a twist." Charles murmurs, sharpening his knife some more. 

"Probably that he wasn't asked to go into town to help Dutch. He's a kiss-ass if I've ever met one."

The corner of Charles' mouth quirks upwards for the briefest of seconds. "Odd way of putting it, but I see what you mean."

"I just wish they would have had you go instead of Lenny." I put a little more force than necessary into husking the ear of corn in my hands. "He's not ready to go back out yet. He needs more time before he can go out and do whatever it is you guys normally do."

"I would have gone if they had asked," Charles agrees, "but Dutch had already spoke to Lenny and there was no telling the kid he couldn't go once he heard the plan."

"What even  _is_  the plan?"

He pauses, looking in the distance for a brief moment. "Dutch wants to get us out of here. With all that's been happening recently it's getting less and less safe to be sitting in one place for too long. We should have left right after the O'Driscoll's attacked, but," he glances over my way, "I can also understand why we need to stay here for a little while longer."

The both of us go quiet after that. Is he implying that I'm the reason that we haven't left yet? I know I'm not the only one who was hurt during that whole escapade--Kieran did lose his fingers after all--but that still makes me feel... _bad_. 

"Supposedly this Bronte guy is giving Dutch some tips on places where we can hit big scores."

Arthur, Lenny, and Dutch rode out into Saint Denis this morning to get some money. Arthur didn't really have any details on what was going down exactly and Dutch was gone before any of us could question him. All we know is that he got a tip from Bronte and he's not wasting any time not acting on it.

I make a face. "I don't trust Bronte. I haven't even met the man, and yet I don't trust him. No powerful man who basically runs an entire town would tell complete strangers where money is available."

Charles shakes his head. "He's not quite  _tellin'_  Dutch who to take money from, but rather  _implying_. I don't know, doesn't really make a whole lotta sense to me."

"Well it doesn't make  _any_  at all to me. I can't say I'm not glad that you guys don't really expect me to do that kind of thing after I went with Josiah and Arthur a couple months ago."

"And that,  _Sweetheart_ , is why you don't belong here. If you don't benefit us then you're just a waste of our time and supplies."

I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I must not do a good enough job though because Charles cracks a smile at me. Micah saunters towards us once more, his voice annoying enough to give anyone a headache. 

"And you're just a waste of air," I tell him politely, adding a smile to my words. He scowls. 

"What do you want, Micah?" Charles asks, trying to get rid of some of the hostility brewing between the two of us. One might think that after living with these people after so many months I would have befriended them and earned there trust--and for the most part I did. All of them, even Bill. 

And then there's Micah. The scum himself still doesn't trust me and treats me just about the same as he did the first day we met. I don't understand it. He treats the other women in camp here better than he does me, even Sadie. And she got here just a few months before me.  _And_  he apparently had only been with this group for six months before I came along! He's almost as new as I am. He has no right to be treating me this way. 

"Ain't talkin' to  _you_ ," he spits in Charles' direction, "don't even wanna talk to her. But she needs to be put in her place."

I put the corn down, standing to my feet and placing my hands on my hips. "And what  _place_  is that, exactly?"

Charles stands as well, clutching his knife tightly in his fist. He looks ready to step between the two of us should he need to, and I get the feeling that Micah isn't too happy with that information. He takes a step back and narrows his eyes at me. 

"We know that O'Driscoll attack weren't just a  _coincidence_. You led them straight to us on purpose."

_"What!"_

"Micah--" Charles starts, no longer off to the side but now fully stepping between us. "That's not true. We know that's not true, you're just trying to get into Lily's head. It's not funny."

Micah steps to the side so he can look at me again. "Oh, it's true. Heard her talkin' about it with that O'Driscoll himself."

"Who?" I throw my hands in the air, at a loss of what to say to someone who's so thick in their head that they think they know everything. "What O'Driscoll have I apparently been in cohorts with?"

"Kieran didn't lose no fingers because he was wanted by 'em, he lost them as a  _cover-up_  for your plan. I see what you're tryin' to do to this camp and you ain't gonna get away with it."

"Micah!" Charles shouts, his tone expressing that he's not going to put up with this any longer. "That's enough!"

"Dutch isn't here this time to stop me from killing you," I warn him, reaching forward to wrap my hand around Charles' wrist. "If you come near me I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

"Or a knife in my throat?" He scoffs. I freeze, my fingers digging into Charles' skin. "Oh, we  _know_  about that. Wanted to kill the second-hand man so you could get there yourself? And now you're plannin' on  _marryin'_  Colm? I should do this camp a favor right now and shoot ya. Arthur ain't here to protect ya this time."

How the hell did Micah find out about that? Only a handful of people knew and I remember telling most of them  _not_  to say anything. I don't think Abigail or Hosea would,  _definitely_  not Arthur, so then who--

Dutch. Dutch probably let it slip to Micah because the worm has a way of getting into the older man's head and making him say or do exactly what he wants. 

"But I am," Charles says lowly, holding his knife out and pointing the end in Micah's direction. The latter takes another step back in response to the threat, his hand moving to hover over his holstered pistol. "If you touch her then  _I_  won't hesitate to gut you like a fish."

"What's going on here?" Hosea's voice filters over through the commotion of the rest of the camp. I turn my head to see him moving quickly towards us. Bill, Javier, Kylie, Abigail, John, and Sadie are close behind him. The seven of them form a half-circle behind Charles and I with Hosea stepping forward to place himself between the two of them. 

"Yer causin' quite the ruckus, Micah. Best be careful of what ya say." Sean adds, walking over with Karen to stand behind me. Karen sets her chin and stares Micah down. 

I can tell Micah is beginning to feel uncomfortable. His eyes shift between each person until they finally land on me. "You're all blind to the spell this witch has you under--"

"-- _witch!--"_

"--that you can't even see what's happenin' before your very eyes!" Micah turns his head to the side and spits out a large wad of chew.  _Disgusting_. "I'm the only one who's lookin' out for everyone here at camp, don't ya see? She's brought us nothin' but trouble since she landed with our group. If you all were as smart as ya claimed to be you'd kick her to the curb, or better yet shoot her now!"

"Okay," Hosea says lowly, stepping forward into Micah's personal space and getting right up in his face, "that is enough out of you,  _Mr. Bell_. I won't tolerate threats being unnecessarily handed out to innocent people in this camp. If you do anything to her then we won't bat an eye if she shoots you. I've had  _enough_  of  _you_  stirring up trouble for us. When Dutch gets back we're going to sit down and have a  _long talk."_

"I know I ain't the only one who's seen it." Micah looks at the group gathered around, pausing on Bill. "Ain't that right, Bill?"

There's a brief pause and we all look back at the man in question. He looks annoyed, if not straight up angry. "Don't drag me down with you. We know Lily ain't gonna hurt us. She's saved our asses more than once."

I'm surprised at the support that Bill is showing me. I'm  _shocked_  that he's not siding with Micah in the slightest. When I first got here he and Micah were close, and I'm pretty sure they bonded over their mutual hatred over me. But I guess something changed these past couple of months and now I've earned some of Bill's respect. I noticed there was a change at the party in Saint Denis, but I didn't know it was this  _big_  of a change.

Micah sneers at the group of us, letting out a loud growl before turning on his heel and stomping back to his tent. He shuts the flap dramatically, cutting off all view and finally leaving us alone. I wonder how he must feel knowing that  _nobody_  here agrees with him. 

That whole exchange was just  _odd_. It came out of nowhere. For the past couple of weeks I've been lucky in having my interactions with Micah be few and far in between. I thought maybe the distance would help some of his hostility towards me dissipate, but telling from this outburst perhaps the time away just made all his feelings fester and grow until this outburst. 

I release my hold on Charles, feeling bad at the marks left behind from my tight grasp. I shouldn't really be all that bothered by what just happened since it wasn't  _my fault_ , but I can't help but feel responsible since I was the reasoning behind the whole thing. I sheepishly turn back to the group that has now started talking among one another but have yet to go back to their previous activities. 

"Hey," I start slowly, waiting until they're all looking at me to continue, "I'm sorry about that. I don't know where it came from or why it happened but I don't mean for any of you to get dragged into the drama of my life."

"Sweetie, don't worry about that." Karen consoles me, looping her arm through Sean's. "That's not right for that bastard to gang up on ya like that."

"Any reason to knock him down a peg or two is a good reason." Sadie adds, eyes drifting over towards Micah's tent with malice. 

"Either way, thank you for backing me up. All of you." I look at each of them, forever grateful to know that I have these amazing people to back me up. "I really do appreciate this. I won't forget it."

"You've done so much for us it's the least we can do." Abigail smiles, reaching forward to place her hand comfortingly on my arm. She squeezes once and then walks back to where she was sitting with Jack earlier. The rest of them follow suit and go back to whatever it is they were doing before. Hosea lingers, waiting until they're out of earshot to speak. 

"Do you have a gun?"

I frown. "I mean, I kind of do, but I don't really like using it--"

"Keep it on you at all times." He interrupts, fixing me with a serious look. "If you can't carry your gun then a knife will do."

I ignore the sharp pinching sensation in my stomach that comes when he mentions carrying a knife. "Do you really think that's necessary?"

He glances over at Charles and the two of them share a look. "I hope that it won't be. But after what Micah just said I don't trust him not to try anything. I haven't trusted that man for a while now. I don't understand why Dutch hasn't kicked him out yet."

"He's the reason Blackwater went south," Charles grumbles. 

"To be fair, there are a lot of reasons that didn't work." Hosea adds, shaking his head. "But I agree that a large portion of it was because of that man. However, if you mention it to Dutch then he'll disagree. So I suggest you don't do that."

I'm beginning to feel a little nervous. Hosea must be able to read it on my face because he steps forward and takes a hold of my shoulders in his hands, forcing me to focus on him. 

"We won't let him do anything to you. Not while we're around. This is just a precaution. Make sure that somebody is always with you and  _don't_  go off alone where he can follow you."

"We'll talk to Arthur when he gets back," Charles' voice is as calm and in control as ever, "but in the meantime I'll stay with you. If you're okay with that, of course."

I nod at him. "I appreciate it, thank you."

Hosea gives me a tight-lipped smile and then walks back over to the house, stepping inside. I sit back down and pick my corn up again, this time  _facing_  Micah's tent instead of having my back to it. I don't like that I now have to be cautious of my surroundings at camp where I  _should_  feel safe, but if I have to do it for the time being then I'll suck it up. I've been through worse after all. 

Charles smiles reassuringly at me and goes back to sharpening his knife. The sound of the blade on blade makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It's like nails on a chalkboard, only worse. But I'm not going to say anything. Hearing that sound distracts me. I'm just going to keep husking my corn and try not to worry about being shot in my sleep. 

* * *

 

"They're back!" Sadie yells from where she's keeping watch at the entrance to Shady Belle. Tilly and I look up from where we're in the middle of counting the supply wagons. Just as Sadie said, the three men are all riding into camp down the main path. What surprises me is that Dutch seems to be sitting in the back of some wagon with Lenny at the reins. Arthur follows behind them on Winston, Lenny and Dutch's horses nowhere in sight. Judging by the looks on their faces and the state of their clothes they're tired.

And... _bloody?_

Tilly gives me a concerned look, apparently picking up on what I noticed as well. I brush the dirt from my hands onto my pants and make my way over to them quickly, my eyes running over their forms to check for any visible injuries. Arthur dismounts and once Lenny stops the wagon he jumps off. I watch as Arthur and Lenny move to Dutch's side to help him get down, supporting him and moving quickly to go inside the house. Bill and Javier move forward to take care of the horses and wagon so that the others don't have to worry about it.

"What happened?" I ask, following close behind. 

"There was an accident," Lenny throws over his shoulder, "a trolley flipped while we was inside it."

"What?!" I gasp, instantly looking to Arthur. From behind he doesn't look that bad, maybe a little dirty, but I haven't really seen him from the front yet so who knows what he actually looks like. 

"Job went south," Arthur grumble as he kicks the door open with his foot, "police was everywhere. Had to get out quick before they killed us."

My mouth falls open in shock. I didn't know this job was going to be  _that_  serious!

"Are you okay?" I ask, placing my hand gently on his back. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. 

"'m fine. Dutch ain't."

"Dutch hit his head when we crashed," Lenny explains as he and Arthur set the man down on a chair, "said he was seein' three of everythin'."

Oh, no. That sounds like what I'm currently experiencing--a concussion. That's not good. Judging by the way his eyes don't seem to be quite focusing on anything and he has yet to speak I can tell he must not be feeling well. 

I crouch down to his height and gently lift his eyelids up, tilting his head back so that I get as much light on his face as possible. I check his pupils, noting that he doesn't seem to really be  _looking_  at me. 

"Do you know what your name is?" I ask, deciding that it's best to start with the basics and work my way up from there. 

Dutch finally cracks a half-smile at that. "How could anyone forget Dutch Van Der Linde?"

I smile back. "Good. Do you remember what happened?"

His smile drops and he lets out a sigh. "Unfortunately I do. Son of a bitch Bronte set us up. Arthur, go get Hosea so that I can talk to him about Bron--"

"I'm already here, Dutch." Hosea says as he walks into the room. He frowns down at the man, briefly glancing at Arthur and Lenny before stepping up alongside me. "What the hell did you do to yourself this time?"

"No talking about jobs, about money, about  _anything_  right now. I don't want you to be stressed right now, understand?" 

The men all nod once they see the serious look on my face. The way that these people can so easily put the importance of good health below getting some money baffles me. 

"Where is he?" A shrill voice echoes through the house. I close my eyes momentarily and internally tell myself not to get annoyed. People are just concerned for Dutch. 

_Actually_ , this might be a good thing. Molly isn't one for robbing herself, so maybe she can help me make sure that Dutch stays away from that stuff for a while. 

Molly rounds the corner and gasps when she sees us. She moves forward quickly and crouches down on my other side, taking Dutch's hand in hers. He folds his fingers over top of hers reassuringly, silently letting her know that he's there.

"On a scale of one to ten how badly does your head hurt?"

"Seven, maybe eight."

I frown. "And your vision? You still seeing three of everything?"

He hums, closing his eyes. "Must admit, lookin' at so many of you is making me sick."

I stand up, gently but firmly nudging Molly off to the side so that I can move around. I take Dutch's hat off carefully, making sure not to irritate any possible head wounds he might have. I gently go over his scalp and through his hair, not finding any lacerations but finding a decent sized bump on the side of his skull on the top of his head where the frontal lobe is. He winces when my fingers brush over it and impulsively tries to move away from me. 

"Sorry," I apologize, being careful when I move him back and avoiding touching the area but still checking it out. "It looks like you hit your head pretty hard, which is the reason why you're feeling the way you are. I think you may have a concussion, maybe a grade 1-- _possibly_ a grade 2. We're going to take you back to your tent and you're going to rest there for a few hours, just to be safe. No sleeping, understand?" I turn towards Molly. "Do  _not_  let him sleep. If he falls asleep with a concussion I may not be able to wake him back up."

She absorbs every word I'm saying to her as though it's coming from the mouth of Jesus Christ himself. She takes Dutch's hat and holds it tightly in one of her hands, moving to stand behind him. She leans down and presses a kiss lovingly to his cheek while rubbing his back. He smiles weakly up at her, eyes displaying the gratitude that he can't seem to voice. 

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He looks back at me and waves a hand. "Just some aches and bruises here and there. Not much you can do for those."

"If something turns worse then you have Molly get me, all right? I don't care if it's just a paper cut. We don't want you leaving something untreated and then it turning into something worse."

Dutch chuckles weakly at my words. "Whatever you say, Doc."

"I'll be back to check on you in two hours. After that then you're going to stay awake for another two hours, and then  _maybe_  I'll let you sleep. Okay?" 

Dutch nods, and then with the help of Hosea and Molly he stands back to his feet. He teeters ever so slightly but gets his balance back quickly. With the proper care he should be relatively back to normal in a few weeks. "Thank you, Lily."

I smile warmly, leaning forward to place a kiss of my own on his other cheek. He grins down at me when I pull back, and surprisingly I don't find Molly staring at me with hatred. She's too wrapped up in her concern for him to even think of being jealous for what I just did. "I'll see you in a little bit."

The three of them walk out of the house slowly, taking their time so as not to rush Dutch. I turn back to the other two men and point for Lenny to take a seat next. He does so with a grin, rubbing his side where what  _used_  to be fresh bandages were wrapped around him. 

"When you're done with me do I get a kiss too?"

"Hey--" Arthur starts with a frown. 

"What I  _should_  do is smack you upside the head for even  _thinking_ that it was okay for you to be going out there yet." I plant my hands on my hips and frown at him. He loses some of his smile, eyes glancing down at the floor. I sigh, taking pity on the kid. "All right, where are you hurt? Did you rip the stitches in your side?"

He gives me a sheepish look and slowly lifts the hem of his shirt to reveal the  _bled-through_  wrappings. I let out an annoyed sound and hold up a finger, walking out of the house and over to the supply wagon. I grab some fresh supplies and turn to walk back into the house.

My eyes just so happen to glance over in time to see Micah's figure disappearing behind the flap of Dutch's tent. My eyes narrow and my body heats up as I begin to feel the anger from before come forward once again. I'll have to worry about that later. 

I set the supplies down on the table and have Lenny discard his shirt so that I can start taking care of his side. Arthur takes a seat somewhere in the middle of me restitching Lenny, leaning back and watching us with tired eyes. I glance up at him every few seconds, just to make sure that he's okay and still awake. I don't know if he has a concussion and I'd like to check him over before he rests.

Twenty minutes later and Lenny is once more patched up. I made sure to take the cloth and go the whole way around his waist three times, making it nice and tight so it's hard for him to move. Maybe that will get him to actually allow his wounds to  _heal_  for once. 

"There," I finish, taking a breath, "you're all good again. Are you sure you aren't hurt anywhere else?"

Lenny nods, one of his arms curling around to hold the area delicately. "Just the same as Dutch. Got some bruises, but this was the worst of 'em."

"Okay, then you're good to go. Come find me tomorrow and we'll change that bandage again." Lenny nods and stands to his feet, about to walk past when I stop him with a hand on his arm. I give him a quick kiss like I did to Dutch and then lightly smack his back so he keeps moving. "Just because you don't feel good. Don't expect that to happen very often."

He tips his head back and laughs, smiling widely at me. "Of course not. Thanks Lily." And with that he leaves Arthur and I alone in the house. 

I twist my torso, hearing the satisfying sound that comes with cracking ones back. I trudge over to him, feeling very tired myself. I pushed my boundaries today with working outside for the first time since I woke up after the O'Driscoll attack, and I'm definitely feeling it after all this excitement. Arthur looks up at me as I approach, following me with his eyes. 

"What brings you into my office today?" I tease lightly. 

He smirks, though I can see how weary he actually is. "Some bad luck, I suppose."

I hum, nodding as though I know exactly what he's talking about. "Well, lucky for you I have just the cure for that." 

"A kiss on the cheek?"

"Even better," I say quietly, bending down and pressing my lips to his. His mouth smiles against my own for a brief moment before his hand comes up and tangles itself in my hair. I pull back after a few seconds, noticing right away that some of the light seems to have come back into him. 

"Just what I needed," he sighs, closing his eyes peacefully. 

"Oh no," I wag my finger at him and he peers at me through narrowed eyes, "you can't sleep. You need to tell me what I need to treat on you."

"Well," he pauses, "my back hurts. Landed on a pole on the trolley when it crashed. Dutch 'n Lenny are the ones that really got the worst of it. Some sleep 'n I'll be right as rain."

I feel bad that there isn't really that much I can do to make him feel better. I can perform surgery, sure, but having the skills of a chiropractor is a whole other thing. If I cracked his back and did it incorrectly he could be messed up for the rest of his life. 

"Go lay down on the bed and I'll rub you down."

A grin slowly crawls across his face. "My back, you mean?"

I laugh, thinking back to all those months ago when I first offered to 'rub him down'. "Sure, I  _definitely_  meant your back."

He pushes to his feet and grabs his hat off the table. He reaches out to wrap his arm around my waist and tug me close to him, craning his neck so that he can kiss me once more, this time more passionately than the last. 

When we pull apart he lingers, eyes still fixed on my now kiss-bruised lips. "Sure do love your massages."

I smile, curling my arm around his back and leading us to the staircase so we can go to our room. "I know you do."


	41. Revenge is a Dish Best Eaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually liked this chapter? It's been a while since I've been able to say that LOL
> 
> Please don't hate me for the cliffhanger. I promise it will make sense very soon. Thank you for all the comments and kudos! Love you guys!
> 
> Question: Since we're getting so close to the end, what would YOU like to see happen? There are still a lot of loose ends to tie up yet but I'm curious as to what your idea of a good ending would be.

The following week passes in what feels like a blur. Dutch was a little more hurt than I originally anticipated, but he seemed to bounce back rather quickly. Thanks to the little vacation I forced him to take (and getting Molly's help on that front was rather easy) he was back on his feet and planning things out with Hosea by the fourth day. Lenny laid in bed for a few days, also thanks to my orders. It just started yesterday to look like it was beginning to scab so this is a good sign. Arthur was out and helping with the camp chores the next day though I tried my best to keep him in bed at least  _one_ day. 

_"There's work to be done 'round here,"_ he had argued. 

_"There are other capable men besides yourself that can chop some firewood."_

He simply laughed at me.  _"I'd like to see ya tell them that."_

And so I had spent the better part of an hour watching as he swung an axe high above his head before splitting the logs stacked to the side. Thankfully John stepped in after a while, though I'm pretty sure that Abigail told him to. 

And in the past week I also had the opportunity to finally begin showing John how to swim. Jack came along with us, still learning himself, and after going a good distance away from camp _(_ _"I don't want no one seein' me do this")_ we found a fairly secluded spot where I could start showing him the basics. Everything I told him was exactly what I told Jack when I first started showing him, only John was actually in the water this time. I could tell John was frustrated and didn't really enjoy basically being treated like a child, but with Jack being there I think it helped him to control his temper and just do as I was saying. Three days of doing this and John was doing pretty good. He was farther along after three days than Jack was, but then again John is a grown man. 

But sadly the peace in camp didn't last for very long. 

I never did get the chance to talk to Dutch about what happened with Micah, and I'm not so sure anyone else said anything to him either. I didn't want to press it on him while he was still recovering, but after seeing the way Micah slinked out of his tent like the snake he is I'm not so sure that  _nobody_ brought it up. 

Three days in and Molly and Dutch were back to screaming at one another. They were on the usual topic of how he doesn't treat her like he used to and Dutch saying about how stressed he was and that she needed to learn when the appropriate time was and was  _not_ to seek his affections. Basically, it ended with Molly running from his tent crying to go stand out at the entrance to Shady Belle. 

Hosea also seemed frustrated with the man when they began talking about the next step after the trolley incident went down. Finding out that Bronte set them up was a blow none of us were expecting or prepared for. Dutch is adamant about getting justice, but Hosea is just calling it revenge and Dutch doesn't like that. He says he isn't a vengeful man...but I have to agree with Hosea on this one. 

And when I brought it up to Arthur he was also upset. He got quiet and that grumpy look he wears whenever something isn't working out the way he wants it to was set firmly on his face. 

_"It's getting less safe to be here,"_ I tried to tell him gently as I sat down on the bed beside him and placed a comforting hand on his arm,  _"I'm just concerned about how we're going to deal with it when things go south."_

_"Dutch won't let that happen,"_ Arthur had muttered, though he sounded unconvinced himself.  _"We've worked too hard and gotten too far to just throw everythin' away now. In a few days he'll have a plan and we'll have all the money we need to get out of here. To start a new life,"_ he had taken my hands in his and held them tightly in his own.  _"Then we can worry about what we are gonna do with the rest of our days."_

_"Together?"  
_

He had smiled at me.  _"Always."_

But then yesterday Dutch had called for Arthur to go up on the balcony with him and Hosea, and when he came back down Dutch looked like a thundercloud and I could tell that Arthur wasn't too far behind him. The two of them had hopped on their horses and rode out of camp before I could even get a word out. When I asked Hosea about it he said they were going to see about having one of Dutch's contacts row a group of them in behind Bronte's house to pay him a visit the next night. 

When I expressed how idiotic and unsafe that was to Hosea he agreed with me wholeheartedly. But he also explained to me that even though he may not agree, Dutch is the unofficial leader of this camp and the people here are going to follow him, no matter how idiotic the plan may be. 

I didn't like it then, and I don't like it even more now as I sit here waiting for the group to return from what could be called a suicide mission. Bill, Micah, Dutch, Arthur, and Sean all went off to the swamp where Dutch's contact was and could at this very moment be rowing into his estate. 

"They'll be fine," Sadie says, seating herself on the stump beside me. Everyone else is huddled around the campfire, also anxiously waiting for the others' return but not nearly as anxious as me. I have to be the first one to greet them when they come in, just to make sure they're okay. "With Dutch leadin' the way nothin'll happen to them."

"I hope," I say quietly, fumbling with my fingers in my lap. I glance over my shoulder to see the light from the fire flickering across the others, their shadows on the ground. Mary-Beth tells Hosea a story while Javier quietly strums his guitar as Kylie watches on. I'm pleased that she's decided to stay with us for a while. I gave her my old tent to sleep in so that she wouldn't have to share with anyone, but for all I know she could be sharing with a certain musician. I turn back to the front of camp with a sigh. "But I'd have felt a lot better if they had let you come along with."

She scoffs. "I know. You'd think that after the O'Driscoll attack I'd have proved myself to Dutch but he don't want to seem to accept it."

I smile briefly. "He doesn't seem to want to accept a lot of things these days."

She goes quiet, mulling over my words. "You mind explainin'?"

I let out a louder sigh this time, bringing my hands up to my face. "The things Arthur has told me lately, the things Dutch has been doing and said...I just don't know anymore. I get that he wants to get more money so that we can  _all_ safely get out of here and away from the trouble, but by doing what he is now it's going to bring us nothing but bad news. I don't like it."

Sadie stares off into the distance. "Dependin' on how desperate a person is to get what they want can make 'em do bad things." Without even asking I can tell that she's thinking back to her late husband. "I've noticed that Dutch has been a little more  _testy_ than normal, but I don't think he's going to get to the point that I've seen others reach. At least I hope not."

"You and me both." I mutter, letting the silence settle between us. The sounds of the frogs and crickets in the surrounding swamp echoes through the air, broken only by the occasional voice from the others. It's relatively peaceful out and the stars in the sky are pretty to look at, but none of this tranquility around me can quell the nervous feeling in my gut. I just know that something big is going to happen soon. I can feel it. 

"Hear that?" Sadie sits up straighter, narrowing her eyes out into the dark. I straighten as well, hand moving to my side where the knife that Hosea insisted I have on me is resting in a strap. 

What starts as a low rumble quickly grows in volume, rising with the appearance of dark shadows. Sadie relaxes after a few seconds once we see that it's just the men returning. It's about time--it has to be nearly one in the morning at this point. 

The two of us stand up as the men ride in, pulling their horses to a stop just beside the dilapidated fountain in the front of the house. Nobody is speaking, all of them quieter than a church mouse. Dutch dismounts first, moving the reins over The Count's head and leading him off to the side. It doesn't look like there's anything wrong, but then again they wouldn't have to be hurt for something to be wrong.

The other men also climb off their horses and lead them off to the side, removing the saddles and allowing them to rest after they're done. 

_But nobody is speaking_.

"Arthur--" I start, catching up with him as he's making his way back to the house. He shakes his head firmly and I shut my mouth. He walks through the doors and inside the house, leaving me outside with the others. 

"Don't take it personally, Lily," John appears at my side, a dark look on his face, "tonight wasn't that good."

"Why's that?"

He tightens his jaw and looks towards Dutch's tent for a moment before grabbing my elbow and leading me off to the side. We walk through the brush until we're where the person who watches the entrance to camp normally stands. The fact that he had to take me so far away from the main part of camp to tell me something concerns me. 

"Dutch lost it tonight."

"What?"

John frowns and shakes his head. "He just...ugh, I don't know. He hasn't been himself lately. He's being more moody and he's getting pissed off easier."

Hm. "Well, that can happen when a person gets a concussion. Especially if something happens to their frontal cortex, which is where Dutch appears to have landed in the trolley crash."

John fixes me with an exasperated look. "I have no clue what you're talkin' about."

I sigh, trying to think of an easy way to describe this. "A person's brain is split up into different sections. Temporal lobe, parietal lobe, occipital lobe," I point to the areas on my skull where they all correlate, "and finally the frontal lobe." I tap my finger on his forehead. He moves back from my finger, not liking that I did that to him. "Some people argue that the frontal lobe is the most important part of a person's brain, which, I mean, it kind of is."

"What's it do?"

"A lot. It controls your emotions, how you solve problems, memory, language, sexual behaviors,  _judgement_." I stress the last one. "It essentially controls someone's personality. There's a man named Phineas Gage who had a metal pole go through his frontal lobe when he was working on a railroad. He had been a really nice guy before the accident, but afterwards he was irritable and people say he was never the same again."

John looks worried. "Are you sayin' that Dutch is goin' to be like that?"

I shake my head. "No, God I hope not. Phineas Gage had part of his frontal lobe  _destroyed_ by the tamping iron. Dutch just has a concussion. There's a chance he heals from it and we get the Dutch we know and love back, but there's also the chance that he could have some of these new miniscule changes be permanent. I don't know--the brain is a tricky thing."

John shakes his head slowly, as though he's having trouble processing all the information that I just threw at him. "Well, I can say for sure that I'm glad we have your brain on our side. Not sure what we'd do if you weren't here with us."

I brush off his words. "But what happened tonight? Dutch being moody doesn't explain why Arthur isn't speaking to me."

John faces the same direction as me, planting his hands on his hips and looking out into the woods with a deep sigh. "We stormed Bronte's tonight. Killed a lot of his men. Even got the bastard himself."

"But that's a good thing, right? Isn't that what Dutch wanted?"

John scoffs, kicking at a piece of dirt with his boot. "Yeah, that's what Dutch wanted. What the rest of us weren't expectin' was for Dutch to hold his head underwater until he drowned and then feed him to the alligators."

My mouth drops open. "You're lying."

He's quiet for a few seconds. "I wish I was."

_Dutch did that?_ I know that these people are outlaws, that they've killed and have robbed more people than I can probably count...but if what John says is true--which I highly doubt he would lie to me--then that's  _awful_. I guess now I can kind of understand why Arthur was in such a mood when he got back. Seeing Dutch do something like that--someone who he thought of as a father--can really do a lot to a person. I need to go find him. 

"What did you guys do? Did you try to stop him at all?"

John shakes his head again. "Bronte had been goin' on about how he had control of the whole town but Dutch couldn't even control us. Guess it set him off. He got real quiet, and we just knew that he was about to explode. Bronte offered a thousand dollars to any of us who betrayed Dutch and set him free, but obviously we wasn't gonna do that. After that, Dutch grabbed him and...well, you get the idea. After we docked I asked him where in his fancy philosophy books it said to feed a feller to an alligator, but Dutch said that 'weakness' had to do with it or somethin'...I don't know. Only one who didn't look disgusted by it was Micah."

That last bit doesn't surprise me at all. "That's fucked up, John," I say seriously, "you know that, right? This isn't normal. Maybe I should have a word with him."

As I go to walk back into camp John grabs my arm once again, stopping me in my tracks. "I don't think that's a good idea. More than likely he's in his tent arguin' with Molly about somethin' and adding you into the mix won't help none."

I want to argue, but John is actually making sense. If I'm going to have a serious talk with him I might as well do it at the same time I tell him about Micah, and I had better wait until he's in a good mood. I make a mental note to go find him in the morning and talk to him about it. 

"We better get back to camp," I say quietly, and he agrees with me. The two of us walk back in silence. When we get out of the thick of the woods I notice that most of everyone has gone to bed now that the men are back. The fire is still lit and there are some bodies stretched out on their bags in front of it, dozing. After all the time worrying about them coming home safely, having them actually get back, and then finding out what Dutch did, I completely forgot how late it actually is. 

I part ways with John, my mind swirling with dangerous thoughts. This isn't some little thing that happened tonight. None of the other men said a word when they came back, just took care of their horses and went their separate ways. Though there may have been a satisfied look on Micah's face, not even he said a word about what went down. What does this mean for us? What does this mean for the camp? 

What does this mean for the relationship between Arthur and Dutch?

I walk into the house and be careful to step over the sleeping people in the living room as I make my way up the stairs. John is already in his room with Abigail and Jack, their voices hushed as he probably informs her about what happened tonight. I know that she'll be about as happy as I am right now. I hope Jack stays asleep and doesn't wake up in the middle of that awful story. He'll ask questions about Dutch that none of them will be able to answer. 

I open the door to our room slowly, unsure if Arthur is even still awake or if he went straight to sleep when he got here. There's a single candle burning on the desk, just barely illuminating the room enough for me to see him and everything else inside. He isn't asleep just yet, simply laying on his back on the bed while staring up at the ceiling. He's shirtless, but with as muggy as it can get I'm not surprised he stripped down. His arms are folded behind his head and propping it up, my eyes selfishly drinking in the sight before I get a grip and remember that there are bigger things to focus on right now. 

"Hey." I say softly, hoping to get a reaction out of him. He doesn't move, doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink. I frown, worrying on my bottom lip with my teeth. I'm not sure if he's purposely ignoring me or if he's just lost in his thoughts. I hope it's the latter. 

I move over to my small trunk and pull out some sleep clothes, quickly dressing in them before walking over to the bed. He doesn't stir through the whole two minutes it takes me to do this, and when I'm standing just above him he still hasn't moved. I don't like Arthur being closed off like this--it makes me feel helpless. 

"John told me what happened tonight," I start, trying to gently ease him into conversation, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Nothing. His lets out a little bit bigger of a breath than normal, but besides that nothing. I'm beginning to wonder if he's just sleeping with his eyes open. 

What can I possibly do that would help him right now? I don't know what he's thinking of, I don't know if he even  _wants_ me here right now. The best thing for him right now could be to be alone and I wouldn't know because he isn't  _talking_. I understand that it can be hard to voice one's thoughts sometimes, but Arthur has to help me a little bit here. 

He left enough room on the bed for me to slip in, but for some reason I get the feeling that it wouldn't be a good idea right now. I look around helplessly, at a loss as to what I should do right now. Maybe I should just slip some clothes back on and sleep in the tent with Kylie. There's enough room in there for two people, I know that. But I also feel like if I left right now that would be abandoning Arthur in his time of need and if I want him to know that I'm here for him then I can't run off and pout.

Something on the table under a bag catches my eye and suddenly I get an idea. I move over and grab it, taking the chair in the room and sliding it up to the opposite end of the bed. I sit myself down and pull out Arthur's journal, opening it in my lap. I take out his pencil and kick my feet up on the bed, leaning back to make myself comfortable. I make sure to angle myself so that the candle light shines down on the pages so I can see them.

I finally get a response from Arthur as I begin to flick through the pages of his journal, his eyes flickering over curiously to see what it is I'm doing. I'm briefly distracted from my plan as glimpses of previous drawings of me Arthur has done jump out at me. I slow down, surprised at how many of me are actually in here. I wasn't aware he drew me that often. 

Me at the campfire. Me on Chewbacca. Me sleeping in bed. Me laughing with Mary-Beth. Me playing with Jack. All moments that I never thought he was looking but apparently he always is. He's always seen me. 

I'll bring this up another time when I know that he'll actually respond to me. I want some of these drawings, and I would love to see what he could do if he had proper art supplies. I wonder if they sell canvas and paints around here? Maybe I'll stop at a store and get him some.

I continue flipping through the journal, going past his entries because I don't want to intrude on his personal thoughts. I felt bad the first time I did that and I'm definitely not going to do it when he's in the same room as me. He must really be out of it if he hasn't stopped me from going through this thing as it is. That or he just trusts me enough to look through something as personal as this is to him. That thought warms me from the inside out.

I stop once I find a blank page and bring one of my knees up, making a steady surface to rest the journal on and then putting the pencil to the paper. 

After a few minutes of the only sound in the room being my scribbling, Arthur's curiosity finally gets the best of him. 

"What're you doin'?" He asks, his voice quiet and a little raspier than normal. 

I pause, looking up at him briefly. I go back to my task at hand, acting indifferent. "Drawing."

"Drawin' what?"

"You."

"Me?"

I nod, my eyes flickering up to his face every few seconds. "You seem to like drawing me so much, I thought I'd return the favor."

He looks back up at the ceiling without another word, but I think I see the briefest twitch of his lips. Could just be my mind playing tricks on me.  

We continue on like this for a few minutes, the pencil in my hand moving wildly around the paper as I struggle to draw what I have in mind. I'm no artist, this was shown the first time I tried drawing Arthur, but I still have fun trying. I finally put the pencil down and lean back with a sigh, studying my work of art. Nodding my head once, firmly, I turn and go to shut the journal to put it back where I found it. 

"Wait--" Arthur says suddenly, "ain't you gonna show me?"

I raise a brow at him. "You want to see?"

He narrows his eyes. "You drew me, didn't ya?"

I prop my legs up on the bed again. "You draw me all the time apparently and don't show me," I counter back at him, "besides, I thought you weren't even interested in talking to me tonight?"

He knows I've got him there. His face falls slightly, and I feel a little bad. What Arthur went through tonight wasn't fun and my pushing him probably doesn't help, but he needs to be pushed right now or else he'll just bottle up all these feelings with everything else he's dealing with. 

"Arthur," I say gently, holding the journal open against my chest like a child, "I'm here for you. One of the parts of being in a relationship is being  _committed_ to that person. If you need someone to talk to, then you should know that you can talk to me. If you feel like you can't, then I'm doing a bad job."

He lays his arms down by his side with a sigh, closing his eyes and sinking into the bed. Neither of us say anything for a few moments, letting my words hang in the air so that he can process them and make a decision on what he wants to do. 

"If you want to talk to me, then talk to me. If you want me to leave you alone for tonight, then tell me and I'll go sleep in the tent with Kylie. But you need to do something, give me a  _sign_. I'm a doctor, not a mind reader."

He slides his hand over and places it on my leg, his fingers curling around it and holding tightly. "I don't want ya to leave."

His voice is so quiet that I almost miss it. I nod my head, accepting his words. Glancing down at the object in my hands I make a decision and turn it around, holding it out for him to see. He turns his head to the side to get a better look and after a few seconds I  _finally_ see a hint of a smile on his face. 

"Ya made me look so... _handsome_."

I scoff. "I just drew what I saw."

"M' hair's shorter."

"You need a haircut."

He frowns. "But then ya can't mess with it."

That draws a short laugh from me. "Didn't know you liked when I do that."

He closes his eyes with a hum, settling into the pillow. "Feels nice."

I watch him for a few seconds before taking the journal and closing it, setting it to the side. I stand from the chair and put it back where it was originally and then climb into the bed, Arthur automatically moving over to make more room for me. Normally I lay on my side and lay on top of him while he wraps an arm around me, but I can tell that Arthur needs a little more physical affection tonight so I have him rest his head on my chest while I hold him close. I take my free hand and run it through his hair, smiling softly as he buries his nose against my sternum. 

It continues on like this for a few minutes, my fingers tangled in the thick strands of his blond hair while my other arm scratches lightly up and down his spine, content noises leaving his mouth every so often. He doesn't seem to be showing much discomfort from the trolley accident so he must be pretty over that, though I do note a few dark spots on his pale skin. Hopefully they're just healing bruises and they're on the mend. 

"Dutch ain't himself," he finally speaks up, voice once more low and hard to hear. I pause in my ministrations, processing what he said before I start back up again. I'll let him speak on his own and won't rush him. "What he did tonight...er, this mornin'...just don't sit right with me."

The tone in his voice indicates that he's waiting for me to say something. "I don't think it did with John either."

"Growin' up Dutch was always the voice of reason, always tellin' us that the only time to kill a man was if we had to." He exhales deeply. "Bronte was a bastard, I'll give 'im that, but he should've just shot him 'nd ended it. Not feed him to a gator. That's just...that..."

I nod. "I know. I don't think any of you were expecting that." My mind briefly flashes back to how John said Micah reacted. Well, almost none of them were expecting that. "Have you talked to Dutch about this? I understand that things have been a little rough lately, and then him getting hurt didn't help any, but maybe if you just sat down and told him about it then it would help. Dutch is a reasonable man. If you need to, then bring Hosea in with you, maybe even John. They feel the same way that you do."

"When I brought up some of my lesser problems he yelled at me like I was a 15-year old boy again," Arthur's voice takes a dark edge, "goin' on about how he was tryin' to protect all of us and that I needed to have faith in him and his plans. And I do, I trust Dutch. He's gotten us this far, but I just--"

"--think that he's going too far." I finish for him. Arthur sighs heavily. "There are around twenty people in this camp, Arthur. It's going to put a lot of stress on one man's shoulders to try to protect all of them, especially if they're all on the run from the police."

He lifts his head, my hand still threaded through his hair, and he looks at my face curiously. "What're you sayin'?"

I take a deep breath, bracing myself. I've been thinking about this for a while, and I know I'm not the only one. "Eventually we're all going to go our separate ways. It's easier to hide when people are in smaller groups. One day it's going to happen to us. I'm just beginning to wonder when that day is going to arrive, because it feels like it's coming sooner rather than later."

Arthur sits up fully, pulling out of my grasp and leaning back against the wall. I follow suit, watching him carefully. His face looks sad as he once more gets lost in thought. 

"I know," he finally says. "I've had the same thought 'bout Marston and his family. It ain't safe for 'em. It ain't safe for any of us." He looks at me now, that furrow between his brows that only appears when he's serious. "I don't want you gettin' hurt anymore, Lily. I don't know what I would do if I lost ya."

My heart hurts. I take his hand in mine and lift it to my face, placing it against my cheek. He rubs his thumb gently over my cheek, brushing over the soft skin. 

"You won't, I promise."

"I want us to have a house of our own, someplace we can start livin' our own life." He pulls me forward and places the softest kiss I've ever received against my forehead. "I want to make you happy."

"As long as I'm with you, Arthur, I'll be happy."

He hugs me close to him, his body warm against my own. I rest against his chest and let his presence surround me, reveling in the feeling he gives me. I'm going to do my best to try to fix things, see what I can do. Maybe I have more power than I knew I was capable of, we'll just have to see. 

It's just too bad that I didn't know then that I would end up breaking my promise to him. 


	42. Family Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saucy times ahead folks (though it's still pretty PG-13ish) ;)
> 
> This chapter is pretty important, but the next two I'm going to be putting out are going to be leading to, if not THE, climax of this story. It's going to get real, it's going to get bad, and then it's going to get better. Time will (hopefully) fix things.
> 
> Thank you for the reviews and kudos! Love you guys so much!

The next morning I urge Arthur to go speak with Hosea before the others wake up so that he can discuss his worries and not have to be concerned with nosy listeners--aka Micah--wanting to put themselves where they don't belong. The two of them go off to the edge of the swamps and talk with one another while I watch from the balcony. I told him all he needed to do was give a sign and I would join him to go talk to Dutch. But I would also understand if he doesn't want nor need me there. This is personal for him, he and Dutch have more history than I do so I'm not going to force myself into it. 

When they come back out into the open Arthur looks up and nods his head, gesturing with his chin for me to come down there. So I slip on my boots and tie my hair back in a quick braid before making my way down the stairs. I pause outside of John's room, tempted to wake him up and have him come along for support, but if Arthur had really wanted him there then he would have said so. I meet them outside the house just in front of the fountain and together the three of us make our way over to Dutch's tent. One part of me feels like he might see this as us ganging up on him, but the more hopeful part of me thinks he'll see us as concerned family just wanting the best for him. 

Dutch pokes his head out from the flap of his tent when we're less than five feet away. We pause as he stares at us, face twisted with confusion. 

"Something wrong?" He asks, looking between all of us. 

Hosea glances back at us, allowing Arthur to speak first if he wants to. Arthur's just frowning as he looks at Dutch though, so Hosea clears his throat and steps forward. "Dutch, can we speak to you in private? Maybe go for a ride somewhere?"

Dutch steps out of the tent now, wearing a pair of riding pants and a simple white button-up shirt. His hair is slicked back but there's no hat on his head or socks on his feet so he must have been in the middle of getting dressed when he heard us coming. "Should I be concerned?"

"We're the ones concerned, Dutch." Arthur finally speaks, taking a half a step my direction. "We just want to talk to ya."

Dutch frowns at us now, looking briefly around camp before shaking his head. "All right."

Once he gets the rest of his clothing on we climb onto our respective horses bareback, not bothering to take the time to saddle them up. Hosea leads us out of camp and past a confused Charles who is keeping watch at this current hour. We ride for only about five minutes to the outskirts of camp and under a cluster of trees before dismounting. Arthur and Hosea walk up to Dutch, standing in front of him. I hang back near the horses, close enough to jump in should I need to but also far enough away that I can give them a semblance of privacy. 

"What's this about, gentlemen?" Dutch starts, folding his arms in front of his chest and leaning back against the trunk of a tree. 

"The camp is declining, Dutch," Hosea holds his hands out to his sides, "and I think we're getting too public to be safe."

Dutch's eyes narrow. "What're you saying?"

"He's sayin' that you've changed and we're gettin' worried 'bout what that means for the rest of us." Arthur adds, his words light but his tone firm. He plants his hands on his hips and stares at the older man, relaxing his shoulders some so that he doesn't look so intimidating. The last thing I know Arthur wants to do is challenge Dutch, but in order for us to be effective he has to come damn close to doing just that. 

Now Dutch looks offended. "I'm doing what's  _best_ for everyone."

"We know that," Hosea says in a calm manner, "but what happened last night wasn't you, Dutch."

Dutch looks over at Arthur accusingly. "You going around and painting a bad picture of what I did for  _us_ last night? I did what I had to, Hosea. You didn't hear what he was saying."

"But I did," Arthur inserts, "and that ain't you. You never lose it like that Dutch, not even when Annabelle died."

I can tell that bringing up Annabelle was a bad decision on Arthur's part by the way that Dutch bristles at the name.  _"Annabelle_ deserved more than I was able to give her. The man that took her away from me deserved worse than I did to him."

Wasn't Colm the one who killed Annabelle? For some reason I had this idea in my head that him killing her is what sparked this whole feud between the two of them in the first place, but I suppose I could be wrong. Dutch is implying he took care of the person responsible so I guess it wasn't him? I'll have to ask Arthur about that later. 

"But you handled it humanely, unlike what you did to Angelo." Hosea is firm. "That man was scum, yes, but did you even check to make sure he was actually dead before throwing him to the alligators? He could have been alive, Dutch, and being eaten alive is a  _horrible_ way to go."

Dutch flounders at that, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with some retort. Arthur briefly glances at me, shaking his head once. 

 _Dutch did_ not _check to see if Bronte was dead first._

"None of you understand what I have to deal with. I have to make decisions, do  _things_ that nobody else wants to do. That's how this life goes, and that's what I'm going to keep doing if it keeps us safe."

"But we're not safe!" Arthur finally loses some of his cool, throwing his hands up in the air. "The O'Driscolls found us at camp, Dutch. Those agents--Milton or whatever--found us at Horseshoe Overlook. We can't keep runnin' like this."

Dutch steps forward and puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I know son," his voice is low as he looks Arthur in the eye, "but once we hit that bank then we'll have enough money to get out of here for good. Just one more job, and we're free."

"To be mango farmers in Tahiti?" Arthur scoffs, turning away and out of Dutch's reach. His hand falls from where it had been resting and clenches in a fist. "I don't know where ya get the idea that that's the best for us."

"Why is it that those who should be by my side are now standing apart from me?" He asks angrily, voice rising and echoing through the sky. "Micah is the only one anymore who knows what true loyalty is about."

"Now Dutch, you know that isn't true." Hosea scolds. 

"Loyal?" Arthur asks quietly, offended by what Dutch said. "You think I ain't loyal? I'm with you everywhere you go, Dutch. I'm always by your side. Why do you think I'm talkin' to ya about this? I'm worried."

Dutch sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning heavily on one hip. "I know, son. I'm sorry. I don't mean it like that. It's just...when I don't have you two by my side supporting me, it  _hurts_."

"Wait," I decide to step in after hearing a particular piece of information slip, "you're robbing the bank? Surely you don't mean the one in Saint Denis." The three of them look at me, Arthur and Hosea unhappy and Dutch solemn. "You're joking. Oh my God you're not joking. Dutch, Saint Denis is  _crawling_ with police! Why do you think hitting a place that populated is such a good idea?!"

"More people means more money," he explains, "and more money means a bigger score. We get that money and we get the  _hell_ out of here."

I frown. "I don't like it. It sounds too dangerous."

"This won't be our first time doing a job like this, but I sure as hell hope it's our last." He mutters. He fixes me with a look, almost as if he's trying to read me. "What's your opinion in all of this, Miss Edwards? You've been as silent as a church mouse."

Uh oh, Miss Edwards. That's not good. He must be more annoyed by all of this than he's letting on. 

"Well," I start out slowly, "I do think some things have changed since I first joined you people."

"Me?"

I nod hesitantly. "You have changed some, yes. And I think I may have an idea as to why it's changed so drastically so recently."

He stands up straight, once more folding his arms. "Do tell."

"When that trolley accident happened, you hit your head. Hard. I think it may have caused some...damage to your frontal lobe."

"His what?" Arthur asks, confused. 

I sigh. I had to explain this to John last night, I wasn't really expecting on having to explain myself to everyone else as well. I tell them what I told John last night, from the different functions of the frontal lobe to the case study done with Phineas Gage. Dutch and Hosea seem interested in what I'm telling them but Arthur just looks more and more confused with each word that comes out of my mouth. 

"Basically, I think that you've unfortunately had some personality changes occur. I...well, I think you just need to take it easy for a while, Dutch." Dutch makes a face that tells me he isn't too happy with what I'm telling him. "I'm only saying this in your best interest. You're right. Trying to take care of everyone and safely get us away from here is a lot of stress,especially for one person to carry. I'm just looking out for your best interests."

Dutch sighs. "After we get the money from this bank then I can rest all I want on the beaches in Tahiti," he murmurs, "but for now there's work to be done."

One other thing that Dutch said really bothered me, so I might as well bring it up now while we're away from the commotion of camp and I have Hosea here to back me up. 

"Dutch," I stop him, trying to think of a good way to bring this up, "there's one more thing."

He pauses, raising a brow. Arthur also looks at me curiously as I share a knowing look with Hosea. He nods, giving me the strength to continue on. 

"Micah is  _not_ the pinnacle of loyalty that you want on your side. He's stirring up trouble in camp--and if I have to be the one to say it then I fucking will--but he's also being a bad influence on you. I think he may be part of the problem."

Dutch's arms fall to his side as he frowns at me. "Lily, you know that Micah has helped this camp more than I can count--"

"--and also endangered it more than the rest of us combined can count. Hosea told me what happened. I know about what happened in Blackwater. I know that Micah was a big reason that all of you are on the run in the first place."

I notice how Arthur's gaze seems to zero in on me. He watches me intensely, caught off guard from all of this. He didn't know I was going to be bringing it up--hell,  _I_ didn't even know this was going to happen right now.

"I thought that you already knew about Blackwater, that that's how you knew who we were?"

Shit. He's got me there. I forgot that when I first came to camp I told them that I recognized them from the wanted posters posted around from the incident in Blackwater. That's fine. I can play off this. 

"I did, but Hosea filled in the blanks." I send an apologetic look Hosea's way, feeling slightly guilty for throwing him under the bus like this. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever reaction Dutch may have to what I'm going to tell him next. "Micah threatened to kill me the day you, Arthur, and Lenny went to Saint Denis."

Arthur instantly looks furious, his hands clenching into fists at his side as he stalks over to me. His face is a thundercloud as he grabs my shoulder, forcing me to look at him.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this?"

"Micah did what?" 

Arthur and Dutch speak at the same time, neither of them expecting me to say what I did. I address Arthur first, knowing that if I don't calm him down now then things will escalate more than they need to. 

"It's okay, I basically had the whole camp behind me for protection. They told him to fuck off and Charles stayed with me as a bodyguard of sorts. Then you guys got back and he left me alone, but I should have told you about it earlier. I just wanted you guys to rest without having to worry about me for once."

"Lily," Dutch says seriously as he also walks over to me, Hosea stepping around to my side, "what spurred him to do this?"

"He said that he knew she was with the O'Driscolls and that he knew all about her and Kieran's plot to kill us all. He was insane, Dutch. That man needs to go. If we hadn't been there then I think he would have killed her then and there."

Arthur's hand on me tightens with Hosea's words. I place my own reassuringly on top of his arm and he relaxes ever so slightly, but I can tell he's still wired from the information just presented to him. 

"Micah didn't mention anything of the sort when he talked to me. We just discussed the bank plans and that was it." Dutch looks down at the ground, lost in thought.

"Of course he isn't going to bring up threatening another camp member, especially when the rest of us threatened to kill him if he so much as touched Lily." Hosea scowls, and I can tell he's getting frustrated with Dutch's blatant disregard for how Micah acts. "Open your eyes, Dutch. That man is a problem!"

"I'll speak with him." Dutch looks up at me firmly, an apology in his eyes. "You're too valuable to this camp to lose, and it won't slide with me for him to terrorize you like this."

"You should kick him out," Arthur growls, "I should kill him for even  _thinkin'_ of doin' such a thing to her."

"But you won't." Dutch says gravely. "I'm going to talk to him and _I_ will be the one to handle this."

I can tell this is the end of the conversation. "Just, be cautious, okay? I know you're convinced you're doing the right thing, but just keep in mind what I've told you. Please, take it easy."

Dutch looks between the three of us, nodding once and then turning and mounting The Count. With a swift kick he takes off, heading back to camp. Hosea isn't far behind him and then Arthur and I are alone. 

He's silent, watching after Hosea and Dutch with his hands planted firmly on his hips and a stern look on his face. Once Hosea is out of sight he turns to me, same expression still set in place. I fiddle with my fingers, unsure of what to say. I know he's angry that I didn't tell him, but he didn't need to know at the moment and I feel bad always making him worry about me all the time.

"You told me that we had to be committed to one another," he starts quietly, "that we need to talk to each other. I told you 'bout what happened with Dutch. Why the  _hell_ didn't you bring this up to me?"

I know he's right. I don't really have a good excuse. "Arthur, you have so much going on. I know you can't always be there to protect me--"

"--I can sure as hell  _try_ \--"

"--and so I need to learn to be able to fight some battles on my own." I finish firmly. I walk up to him slowly and he doesn't move, his eyes following me closely. "You were  _hurt_. And then the whole thing with Bronte? It wasn't exactly my plan to add to your growing list of worries." 

"Lily, anythin' that concerns you is going to be at the top of my list because you're the most important thing I have in my life." He drags a tired hand across his face, looking off to the side with a slight shake of his head. I can't help but feel like I've disappointed him by holding this back from him. 

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, because I  _am_. I guess that by trying to help him I did the opposite. "But you should know that you have some good friends back in camp who are willing to help you when you're not there."

He shakes his head with a tiny smile, the look just barely crossing his face. "They didn't do nothin' for me. They did it for you. Well, maybe a little bit for me, but mainly for you."

Huh. I mean...I guess he's right. Charles and Javier and John and the rest of them just stepped in without another word, and unlike the last time something like that happened they didn't mention trying to save themselves from Arthur's wrath this time. I guess they really did do it because of me. 

I don't even realize that I'm grinning until Arthur gives me a quizzical look. I shrug my shoulders, unable to put into words why I'm smiling like the fool that I am. After a few moments of studying me he seems to relax some as well, shaking his head with a slight roll of his eyes. He throws an arm across my shoulders and steers me towards where the horses are grazing a few feet away. 

"C'mon, let's get back before they send a search party out for us."

* * *

Once Arthur and I ride back into camp the first thing I see is Micah and Dutch having a heated conversation over to the right behind one of the crumbled walls. Dutch looks angry and Micah looks like a volcano about to explode. Though I may not be able to hear what they're saying, I can tell by the way Micah is waving his arms around and shaking his head that it's probably not anything good. 

Arthur suddenly dismounts and is striding towards the two of them, his hands balled into fists at his sides, while Winston is left standing where he left him in the middle of the pathway. If Micah and Dutch's expressions showed how angry they are, then Arthur's is absolutely  _livid_. 

I scramble off Chewie quickly and direct the two horses to go towards their usual grazing spot before quickly moving after Arthur, afraid of what he might do. Dutch notices him first over Micah's shoulder, and I can tell that he doesn't want to be interrupted right now. 

"Arthur, don't--"

Micah turns around just in time for Arthur to grab two handfuls of his overcoat and throw him to the dirt below. Before he has a chance to get back up on his feet Arthur is crawling on top of him, holding him to the ground with a hand around his throat and a fist pulled back and ready to release hell on his face. 

"Don't you  _eve_ _r_ threaten my girl again, you understand that? I'll sink your ship before it even hits the water."

"Arthur,  _enough_." Dutch orders from above, ready to jump in should he have to. 

I, meanwhile, stand back and enjoy the show. It would be one thing if Arthur was going to start a full-out fight because of me, but if he's just going to rough him up and threaten him? Give me some popcorn and I'll be good to go. 

Plus, I won't lie that it's pretty attractive watching Arthur get so fired up protecting me. My body burns, all the way from the tips of my ears down to my toes as I see the brute strength he's restraining himself from unleashing on the scum beneath him all for my benefit. Watching how his back and arm muscles tense from all the rage coiled through his body makes my stomach churn in a way that makes me want to drag Arthur away from this show and to our room for some privacy. 

But I can control myself long enough so that Arthur finish doing what he is now. 

 _Then_ I'll jump him. 

_Maybe even ride him a little, too._

"Get off me, _Black Lung!"_

 _Black lung?_ Why is Micah calling him that? Is it because of the small cough he has?

Arthur lifts Micah up from the ground a few inches and then slams him back down, jostling him enough that his hat falls off onto the dirt below. "I mean it, Micah. I'll kill ya and won't think twice 'bout doin' it."

"Cut it out you two!" Dutch shouts, moving over and grabbing Arthur's arm to haul him off Micah. Arthur brushes him off but does stand back up, staring angrily at Micah beneath him. Micah sneers up at him, rolling over to his knees and standing back to his feet. He brushes the dirt off him, not taking his eyes off his opponent. 

"I don't kindly to threats inside the camp," Dutch says as he looks between the two of them, "but after what Micah said to Lily I'm going to let what Arthur just did slide."

Micah opens his mouth like he's going to argue but Arthur moves his hand to hover over his pistol,  _waiting_ and  _wanting_ Micah to say something so that he can fulfill the promise he just made. 

"We are a group, a  _family_ , and families don't act like this. I know you can be civil with one another, and things will be better once we're out of this shit hole and far from the police. Now, we have bigger things to be worrying about. We're going after that bank in two days and I don't want anything to go wrong because of this spat."

"Spat?" I can't help but step in, frowning at Dutch. "Telling a person that you're going to kill them for false reasons isn't a  _spat_ , Dutch, it's a threat. What Micah did is  _not_ okay."

He holds up a calming hand. "I know, and I talked to him about it. He's sorry--"

"--I ain't sorry for what I said, 'specially when it's the truth." Micah finishes by spitting out a big glob of tobacco at my feet. 

"Dutch--" Arthur says in warning, taking a step forward with a curl to his lip. 

 _"Micah,"_ Dutch hisses, stepping fully between the two men now. "That's  _enough_. You are grown men, not children. I shouldn't have to treat the two of you as such but apparently I  _do_. Get out of here, both of you, before you open fire in camp. I won't let you drag the rest of them in this."

"They're already in it. They heard him threaten her." Arthur gestures with a wide arm at Shady Belle. "I mean it, Dutch. I'll kill him."

"Not if I kill you first,  _cowpoke_."

"Come on," I say quietly, ignoring Micah and giving Dutch a disappointed look as I grab a hold of Arthur's hand and tug him towards the house, "let's go. There's no use."

Arthur begrudgingly allows me to tug him along, and I know that if he really wanted to he could resist me but he doesn't. I drop my hand from his once we're a few feet away and continue inside and up the stairs with my arms wrapped around myself, knowing by the heavy footfalls behind me that he's still following. 

He slams the door shut behind us and sits down heavily in the chair, taking his hat off and tossing it to the side. 

"Why can't he see that Micah ain't nothin' but trouble?"

"He's blinded by these promises of money that I think Micah is whispering in his ear. Everyone else can see what we see, but Dutch is too preoccupied with getting everyone away from here that any word of money and he's completely hooked into it."

Arthur leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. I walk over and stand in front of him, one hand cradling the back of his head while I use my other to rub up and down his back comfortingly. He moves forward some more until his head is pressing into my stomach and he can lean against me.

A smile slowly creeps onto my face as I think of something that might help cheer him up a little bit. "Want to know a secret?" A hum from him is the only response I get. My hand on his back glides upwards and across his shoulders, feeling the muscles that I admired earlier twitch and flex beneath my touch. "It was  _really_ hot watching you knock Micah to the ground like that."

Arthur snorts and lifts his head, giving me a smirk. "Hot, you say? Don't think I've ever been called that before."

I nod. "You're definitely hot. _Sexy_." I push on his shoulders until he's sitting up in the chair once more and I can access his front. I grab the straps to his suspenders and slide them down his shoulders before beginning to slowly unbutton his shirt. "Seeing the way you were willing to fight for me like that..." I lick my lips and notice smugly that his eyes follow the movement. "But I don't want you to go making a habit of doing that, okay? I only let this slide because it was Micah."

Once I'm halfway done with unbuttoning his shirt I crawl onto his lap, my legs straddled on either side of his own. His hands reach out and hold onto my hips so that I don't slide off backwards onto the floor. "I'd  _gladly_ beat Micah up for you."

I smile at him, undoing the last button and throwing his shirt open so I can place my hands on his warm skin. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the movement picking up speed as I lightly drag my fingers from his collar bones and down across his stomach to the buckle of his belt. I look up to see him watching me with darkened eyes, his pupils wide and imploring. I lean in close, feeling his breath brushing like a feather across my face. 

"I love you," I murmur, and feel his hands tighten on me in response. 

"You're my world, Lily Edwards." He says back, voice just as quiet as mine. Like he's making a confession to me that he's afraid for me to hear, that maybe I'll reject it. Little does he know how his words make my heart soar. 

I don't say anything, just close the few centimeters between us and kiss him with a hunger that always encompasses me when he's around. He returns it in kind, his hands raising up to wrap around my back and clutch me close to him as though I'll float away with the wind. 

He pulls back a few seconds later, breathless and panting. I can feel his erection below me, hard and ready for my attention. 

"Will ya go to Saint Denis with me tomorrow?"

"Of course," I tell him with a frown. "Why?"

"'Want to take ya on a date--a proper one."

I grin at him and he returns it without hesitation. "What are we going to do?"

He winks at me, his own hands roving around to my front and beginning to undo the buttons of my own blouse. "It's a surprise. But I bet you can guess what I want to do  _right now_."

I take my shirt off my head and toss it to the side, feeling his hands skimming up my sides towards my breasts eagerly. I arch into his touch and throw my head back as he leans forward to kiss at the skin of my neck. I let out a moan when he stands suddenly, lifting me with his hands grabbing my bottom and walking the two of us over to the bed. When I'm laying on my back looking up at him, that beautiful smile he has just for me on his face, I feel at home. 

"I think I have an idea."

 


	43. The First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE THIS CHAPTERRRRRRRRRRRRR
> 
> It's super long because I was going to end it at this one part BUT I thought that would be too evil so you're welcome. It's full of such fluff and sweetness that you might choke on it, just a warning. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! Let me know what you guys think! Love you!

Arthur wakes me up with the softest brush of his lips across my face the next morning. I open one eye, staring up at him as he smirks to himself. He slides his nose down the curve my throat to my chest, nuzzling against my skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

"Good morning," I yawn, reaching my arms up above me and stretching. The blanket slides down at the movement and he eyes up my bare chest eagerly. 

"Good mornin' indeed," he hums, taking one hand and skimming it up my side slowly. The palm of his hand is rough and coarse on my delicate skin, but not unpleasantly so--quite the opposite, actually. It brings me the same feeling that having his facial hair tickle between my thighs gives me. "I'd love to spend the morning how we spent last night, but I got a list of things I want us to do so we need to get movin'." He climbs out of bed from on top of me and strides over to his trunk, completely comfortable in the nude. 

"You still haven't told me what it is you have planned."

"And I ain't gonna," he throws over his shoulder at me. I can hear the smile in his voice. 

I sigh and get out of bed as well, twisting around until my back cracks. I wonder if there are any good chiropractors around here. Or good mattresses. As much as I love practically sleeping on top of Arthur every night, I know that a real mattress would help him as well as me. 

When we exit the house and head over to the horses I notice that most other people are still asleep in their respective areas, only Susan and Pearson awake. They nod at us as we pass by but don't ask about what it is we're doing. Susan gives Arthur a knowing look, a glint of something mischievous shining in her eyes for a moment before she turns back to the breakfast that Person is preparing. I look over at Arthur in confusion but he just keeps walking, the corner of his mouth tugged upwards ever so slightly. 

I go to mount Chewie but he stops me, taking my hand and walking over to Winston instead. My eyebrows furrow as he places his hands on my waist and lifts me onto his own saddle, waiting until I'm situated before he climbs on behind me. He rests his hands on my waist and leans in close to my ear. 

"Winston'll be fine for today, you just ride into town and I'll tell ya where to go."

I take the reins and have Winston start walking. The feel of Arthur's warm body close behind mine and his arms around me distracts me as we ride to Saint Denis. More than a few times I nearly have Winston ride into a swamp, but the squeeze of Arthur's hands and his low chuckle in my ear brings me back to my senses just in time to correct our path. 

"Here'll do just fine," Arthur points over to a hitching post just to the right of a butcher's stand. He dismounts first and then helps me down to the ground in the same fashion that he helped me up.

I shake my head at him. "What's gotten into you? Acting like a gentleman."

He scrubs a hand against the scruff of his chin. "'Thought I was one."

I scoff, lightly slapping him on the arm much to his amusement. "You're sure laying it on thick."

"Would ya rather I stop?" He steps close, reaching down to take one of my hands in his and rub his thumb across the back of my knuckles. "I could act like I did last night, 'defendin' your honor'."

I laugh, reaching up on the toes of my boots and briefly kissing him. He follows me for a moment when I pull away. "Save that for the bedroom, Cowboy."

He growls playfully but doesn't say another word, leading me down the cobble streets. He takes us down an alleyway and when we come out on the other side there's a huge church in front of us. He walks over towards it confidently, in the direction of the woman and man speaking to each other on the front steps. 

I slow down, confused as to why Arthur is leading me to a church. My mind immediately jumps onto one possible reason, but I sincerely think that Arthur wouldn't just confidently walk up to a church expecting me to marry him without actually asking first. 

Arthur and I haven't even really  _talked_ about marriage yet. 

But I can't stop my heart from skipping a beat when I think of what being married to Arthur Morgan would be like. _Being his wife_.

"Mr. Morgan!" The older woman happily exclaims, turning away from the man whom I'm guessing is the priest of the church. The woman is dressed in nun's clothing, in the same fashion that's appropriate for this time. She holds her arms out and Arthur somewhat reluctantly releases me to accept her hug, giving her a light pat on the back in return. 

She pulls away with a big smile on her face and turns her eyes to me. I give her a smile of my own and lightly wave my hand. 

"And you must be this Lily Edwards that I've heard about." She moves over and hugs me the same way that she did to Arthur. I give him a questioning look over his shoulder and he shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know your name?"

"Sister Calderon." She introduces herself. There's a slight accent to her voice, a beautiful and exotic sound that's surprising to find in such a dirty town. 

"I've been excited to meet the lady who has affected a man like Mr. Morgan so much," she winks in his direction and I can't help but blush. What did Arthur say to this woman about me to make her think I'm so high on this glorified pedestal? "Brother Dorkins is in the garden in the back. He wanted to share a few words with you when you arrived."

Arthur tips his hat to the two of us and then stalks around the side of the church, leaving me alone with Sister Calderon and the priest. He also tells me good morning, and eyes up my attire of a button up blouse with riding pants before walking up the stairs and disappearing behind the large wooden doors. 

"I take it Mr. Morgan didn't inform you of this meeting?" 

I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself reflexively as a comfort. She takes notice and smiles at me gently. It's not that I feel unsafe, I'm just around new people who apparently know about me but I know nothing about them. Is this how the others felt when I first arrived at camp? Arthur clearly trusts these people otherwise he wouldn't have left me alone with them so easily, so that makes me feel a little better. 

"You have no need to worry. All are safe here in the presence of God." She nudges me gently. "And with Arthur in hearing distance I'm sure that he would come to your aid in a heartbeat."

I laugh softly at that. This woman may be a nun, but I can tell that she can get up to a little trouble if she wants to. I feel myself starting to warm up to her quickly. 

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you know Arthur?"

She nods her head, as though this is a question she was expecting. "I met him through Brother Dorkins, actually. Arthur helped him to free some men who were going to be sold to a slave trade."

I'm horrified. I sometimes forget that that sort of thing in today's day and age isn't exactly as frowned upon as it is in my time. 

"Oh my God." She raises a brow at me. "Gosh. Goodness. Sorry, I don't mean to offend you."

She waves a hand nonchalantly. "Do not worry about it. We hear much worse here. Most people are less understanding and more judgmental." She glances over to where the gate to the churchyard is. "But after he helped Brother Dorkins he came here to see how we were faring. While talking to him a couple boys ran off with this cross," she pulls a golden cross out of her sleeve, holding it out for me to inspect, "and he went after them to bring it back for me. I will admit that at the time I was afraid that he would hurt the boys, but he didn't." She winks at me. "That's when I knew he was a good man."

The cross is heavier in my hand than it looks. Is it real gold? Is it just painted to look gold? The color is faded a little but it's still beautiful all the same. There's a crucified Jesus carved into it, the detail from his crown of thorns to the nails in his hands and feet impressing me. "It's beautiful."

"It was my mother's," she takes it back gently, stowing it back where she originally had it, "and she passed it onto me when I was a novice. Holds great sentimental value to me. Odd, right?"

I give her a soft smile. I know exactly what she's talking about. 

"He did a few other odd tasks for us, helping when he could. We offered him money for his work each time but he refused, telling us to use it where we most needed it. Along the way he opened up more and our conversations would last longer." She turns to me, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a long history of smiling. "He brought up this girl that was seeing, about how smart and beautiful she was. I could tell by the way he talked about you how in love he is."

I blush, looking down at the ground and smiling to myself. It warms my hear to know that Arthur talks about me like that when I'm not around. 

"I'm sure he talked me up more than I can actually live up to."

"Nonsense," she says, "he's told me about the miracles you've performed. The caring side and also the strong side of you. He knows how lucky he is to have you."

I shake my head. "I'm lucky to have him, if anything. Without him I wouldn't have survived."

She smiles, that same look on her face that Miss Grimshaw had before we left camp. Is there something happening here that I don't know about?

"I must admit, I get a very strange feeling from you, Lily."

I raise an eyebrow. "I hope it's a good feeling?"

She laughs softly. "Yes, it's a good one. It's similar to the one I got from Arthur when he brought the cross back."

I decide to just come out with the question that's been silently buzzing in the back of my mind since this church came into my sight. "Is there a reason that Arthur brought me here? He just told me we were going to Saint Denis without a specific reason why and I won't lie that I'm very confused by all of it."

"All in due time, my child." She assesses me out of the corner of her eye. "But besides the 'good' strange feeling I get from you, I can also feel your sadness. It troubles you. Weighs your heart down."

I stop, looking at her for a few seconds before staring out at the streets of Saint Denis past the gate we walked through. As the morning continues on everything becomes busier and more people begin to emerge from their homes, ready to get on with their day. 

How can this woman get all this information from me just by looking at me? How can she possibly know how I'm feeling inside?

"You do not have to tell me about your troubles, but I am here with two ears should you feel the need to get some of that burden off your shoulders."

I look back at her only to find that she too is looking out at the people of Saint Denis. She's giving me a choice, an option to confide in her or not say a single word, and for some reason that alone makes me trust her even more. 

"I...have been troubled, yes. A lot of stuff has happened in my life recently and I don't know how to quite make sense of it all, let alone deal with it." I let out a deep breath, my hand brushing against the healing marks that lie beneath my clothes. 

She nods understandingly, briefly glancing at my face. "When I saw you I noticed that it had appeared like you had run into trouble. I'm sorry for the hurt you've had to go through."

"Me too," I say softly, wincing slightly as I remember the feeling of Colm's hands on my body, the way that his men kicked my ribs and nearly broke my leg. "But I've also gotten stronger being here. I can do things now that I couldn't do before. Arthur has saved my life more than once, but it's a good thing I gained some independence otherwise not even he would have been enough for me."

"Sometimes things the worst things happen to the strongest people. Losing my husband was very hard for me. Had it not been for Brother Dorkins and Father Marshall helping me along the way I'm not sure how I would have continued on."

She was married? I thought nuns couldn't...well...

"I'm sorry that he passed." I tell her. 

"It was his time. There was nothing that could be done." She tries to sound nonchalant but even I can detect the pain that still lingers in her voice. "But even through all the hardships, life can still be a very beautiful thing. It can bring incredible opportunities and surprises." She gets that look back in her eye. I open my mouth to question her when someone else starts talking.

"--are doing fine, and send their thanks and many blessings." A male's voice rounds the corner and Arthur and another man walk in our direction. I'm guessing this must be Brother Dorkins. 

"Ah, well, tell 'em thanks, I guess." Arthur brushes off, uncomfortable as ever when someone tells them thank you for what he did. I wish he could see just how good of a guy he really is. 

Arthur straightens and walks over to Sister Calderon and I, looking between the two of us suspiciously before clearing his throat. "So I brought her here."

Sister Calderon nods. "So you did."

Arthur's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "Like ya asked. Did ya get what information ya wanted?"

"Information?" I question, my eyebrows furrowing. She wanted information from me?

Sister Calderon nods her head. "I believe I did." She places one of her hands lightly on top of mine, squeezing it reassuringly. "Lily is a wonderful woman, Arthur. You're very lucky to have her."

He smiles at that and wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me close to his side. I go willingly and wrap myself around him naturally, my body fitting so perfectly that it's like I was always meant to be there next to him. 

"It was nice seein' y'all again, but I have a few other things I'd like to get to and I don't want to hold you up. Sister, Brother." Arthur tips his hat in farewell. 

"It was lovely meeting you," I tell Sister Calderon. She smiles at me in return and her and Brother Dorkins wave goodbye as Arthur steers me out of the churchyard and back into the throng of people milling about. 

"That was strange..." I trail off once we're out of hearing distance. 

"Strange?" Arthur questions. "What'd ya think of 'em?"

I shrug, stepping closer into his side for a moment as a man refuses to move out of my way. "She was very nice. She told me how you guys met." I look up at him smugly. "How you talk about me a lot."

He looks off to the side, the smallest bit of pink dusting his cheeks. He tries to hide it by lowering his hat even more over his face, shielding it from the sun. "I dunno what you're talkin' 'bout."

I hum, deciding to hold off on the teasing. For now, anyway. 

"I didn't know you were such a good Samaritan." 

"I ain't. Just saw they needed help and gave it to 'em."

I pat his arm lightly. "You keep telling yourself that, Sweetie."

"Sweetie?"

"That's what you are. A Sweetie."

He smiles down at me in that sexy way of his, slowing his steps a little bit. "Sweet, huh? Then let me give ya some sugar."

I laugh, about to comment on the horrible pun of his when he leans down and presses his lips to mine. On the outside it looks gentle and cute but I can feel the passion behind it, can feel the way he's trying to convey his feelings towards me. It takes my breath away. 

When he pulls back he tugs me along, ignoring the blatant stares from the people who were standing nearby that we just gave a little show to. I guess it's taboo here to display public affection. 

At least in broad daylight anyway. 

"So who else did you help that you didn't tell me about?"

Arthur takes a deep breath, leading me up a set of stairs and through another alley, this one brimming with individual stalls where people are trying to get others to buy their products. More than once a few people call us out, wanting our attention but we just continue on our way. 

"There're these two men, Eagle Flies 'nd his dad Rains Fall."

Beautiful names. "Native Americans?"

Arthur nods. "'Guess they're from the Wapiti Reservation or somethin'. Up north. It's who Charles went ta visit when we was going after that buffalo, remember?"

I think back to that trip and how Charles split off from us once we reached Valentine. I also bring back the memory of when I nearly died and Arthur saved my life. Little did I know how much worse it would get from that time on. 

"I remember." My voice is quieter than I intend it to be. 

Arthur must notice the slight change in my demeanor because he pulls me even closer to his side, if that's even possible. 

"Sorry, Darlin'. Didn't mean to make ya upset."

I shake my head. "I'm not upset, I promise. Keep going?"

He studies me for a few moments before nodding. "They ain't gettin' treated nicely by the government." Big shocker there. "Asked for my help in retrievin' a few documents. I did. It ain't right what's happenin' to them."

I rub Arthur's arm that I'm currently wrapped around. "That was very nice of you, Arthur. But when did you have time to do all this?"

He shrugs. "Did most of it a while ago. Some days I'd be gone a little longer than usual?" I nod. "I was out robbin' a man in some factory."

I frown. "And you didn't tell me about this  _why?"_

He grimaces. "Didn't want to worry ya. Nothin' happened anyway."

"I still would've liked to have known. Please don't hide back from me again, Arthur."

He leans down and presses a firm kiss to the top of my head. "I'm sorry, Darlin'. This happened a while ago. I'll let ya know from now on, all right?"

I nod, still somewhat upset that he didn't tell me about all of this but push it down to the recesses of my mind anyways. This is going to be a good day so I won't let anything ruin my mood. 

We walk for a while longer, straight up to a big building in the center of town. At first I think we're going to walk right past it but he continues on, straight up to the man selling tickets in the window. 

I can't stop the excited gasp that leaves me when we get in line. He looks over at me, a grin on his face. "We're going to see a show?"

He nods, stepping up to the window after the person leaves. "Two tickets, please."

"That'll be thirty cents."

Arthur doesn't even bat an eye as he digs the money out of his satchel, sliding it under the glass to the man and taking the tickets in return. I take his hand and excitedly pull him inside to the lobby, looking at the grandeur of the theatre and the posters lining the wall.

"You don't even know what show we're goin' to see," he chuckles, watching me bounce around as I take in every detail. 

"I don't care. I love the theatre. I used to go see shows on Broadway all the time."

"In New York?" He says in surprise.

I pause. "Yeah. I would go up with my friends a lot and see the shows there. I've always loved live theatre."

He raises a brow, impressed. "Didn't know you was wealthy."

I make a face. "I'm not." Not here, anyway. It's a shame I  _don't_ have the money from back home. It could help all of us so much. 

He doesn't say another word, just opens the door to the auditorium and allows me to walk through first. There aren't many people here, though that's not surprising considering it's only about noon. Arthur leads me to the right section, allowing me to sit down first before following suit. The lights in here are already dim considering they're all candles, which immediately makes me think of how unsafe that is to have in such an old building. The thought makes me laugh a little bit. 

Arthur looks over when I do, still smiling at me. "It hasn't started yet."

I shake my head. "I'm so excited." I take a look at the stage, looking at all the different instruments that are lying there. Some band is going to be performing?

"After this we can go get somethin' to eat."

"Good, I'm starving." I rub my stomach for emphasis. He frowns slightly. 

"You should've said somethin' earli--"

"Shh," I put a finger to his lips and feel him smile beneath it, "it's starting."

Five men walk out, all dressed in tuxedos. They go to an instrument-a piano, cello, drums, guitar--and situate themselves before looking off stage. The next instant a beautiful woman in a bright red dress walks out, everyone cheering and clapping for her. I join in, though Arthur just watches. 

"Hello! Thanks for joining us today. This here was a new song about a so called 'modern improvement' you may have become aware of called the telephone."

I grin. This woman has a stage presence that demands everyone's attention be on her and I am  _loving_ it. 

"This new machine will carry a facsimile of your voice from Blackwater to Valentine to Saint Denis. And they propose to distribute them to all manner of places so that no matter where you are, somebody is looking for you."

The people in the crowd begin to murmur among themselves, excited by this new idea. I can only laugh inside my head at all of it. If only they knew what the telephone would eventually become. 

"A wise man prayed that one day we may all eventually be gathered together in a heaven of everlasting peace and bliss... _except_ for the inventor of the telephone, because someone is always calling saying..."

The man at the piano plays a chord and the woman smiles.  _"Hello,"_ she sings, her voice smooth and beautiful. 

The people in the audience respond, saying it back. She does this again, waving at the people in the front row. When the music starts up and she begins the first verse I feel something stir in the back of my mind. 

_"I've got a little baby but he's out of sight, I talk to him across the telephone."_

I cross my legs and my foot begins to tap against my own free will. She continues on until finally the beat seems to pick up and people in the audience start to whistle. 

_"Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal..._ _"_

I gasp, sitting forward and reaching out to grab Arthur's arm. He looks over at me with concern. 

"Everythin' all right?"

"I know this song!" I exclaim, my voice a loud whisper. I can't believe I actually  _know_ a song from this time! I didn't know it was  _that_ old!

"It's a good song," he agrees as he relaxes once he sees that nothing's wrong. I sit back in my seat with a smile on my face, thoroughly enjoying myself. 

A shadow moves behind me and I look out of the corner of my eye to see Arthur oh-so subtly pretending to stretch so that he can rest his arm across the back of my shoulders. I scoff to myself, finding it funny that that practice still happens even in this time period. 

I snuggle into his side once he's done trying to be 'smooth', surprising him. He doesn't complain though, just holds me tighter against him. 

The show continues on for another half an hour, the woman singing a few more songs and some other people coming out to dance and one woman performing tricks with fire. All of it is impressive and makes me happier than I even thought possible, being able to experience these things in person  _and_ with Arthur, no less. 

When the show is over I won't lie that I'm a little sad. I wish it would have lasted longer but it is only 1899, so I'll take what I can get. Arthur leads me out and into the bright sunlight of the midday, the both of us squinting our eyes to try to protect them. 

Arthur and I make small conversation as he takes me to a restaurant that also serves as a bar, but I suppose in towns like these there won't be any restaurant that  _isn't_ a bar. We find a secluded table and order our food, me getting simple chicken and dumplings while he gets the fish special, and continue our conversation. He makes me laugh and feel lighter than I have in a long time, and I make him smile more in one day than I've seen him do since joining this camp. 

Arthur takes a sip from his beer, his hat resting on the table off to the side. I drink from my water and finish it, pushing it off to the side with the clean plate I leave behind. The waiter brings us refills and Arthur happily accepts them. When we finish with our meals he pays and then the two of us head back to where Winston has been patiently waiting for us. He puts me on his horse again, only this time he gets in the front and instructs me to hold onto him, which I happily do. 

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," he calls back to me, and then we're taking off. We go to the train station in Saint Denis and he buys a ticket for the two of us, along with one for Winston. He loads his horse up in the back first before escorting me to a car, letting me pick the seat. Now I'm really confused. Where could we possibly be going that we would need to take a train?

We ride for a little while, talking about the things going on in camp and purposefully avoiding any mention of Micah, Colm, or the bank robbery that's going to be happening soon. We know those are delicate topics that could pop this blissful bubble that's currently wrapped around us. 

Finally the train comes to a stop and Arthur looks out the window, nodding. "This is where we get off."

He helps me down the steps, though I could easily do so myself, and we get Winston off the train. He saddles up once more and then the two of us take off again, headed somewhere I don't know. 

At least for a while. 

Very quickly things start to look familiar to me, and soon I get an idea as to where it is we're going. "Are we going back to Clemens Point?"

Arthur chuckles. "Ya figured it out?"

"Did I?"

"Sort of," he answers, having Chewie slow as we descend down a hill, "we ain't goin' back to Clemens Point. Just somewhere nearby."

He doesn't say anything more and I don't ask. I don't want to ruin the surprise for myself, even though the curiosity is killing me inside. 

When he takes us through a break in the trees and slows Winston down to a walk I finally know where we're headed.

The field where Arthur gave me my first riding lesson is as beautiful as I remember it. Nobody else has found this spot so the wildlife and greenery are thriving as they were before. A deer off in the edge of the clearing scampers off into the forest when it catches sight of us, a flock of birds also flying into the sky at the interruption of their peace. Arthur stops Winston under a tree and allows him to graze freely, the horse happy to be back in a familiar area. I slide down off the back before Arthur has the chance to help me, walking slowly through the tall grass and looking at the landscape. 

Absolutely breathtaking.

"It's beautiful."

"Yes you are."

I roll my eyes with a soft laugh. 

"You're being quite fancy today."

Arthur walks up beside me, his thumbs resting in his belt loops. "Well, we haven't done nothin' since we've been together. Figured if it was gonna be our first one might as well make it special."

I nod, my lips curved upwards. "You'll definitely make this hard for others to beat."

"Others?" He questions, narrowing his gaze ever so slightly. "What others?"

I try to keep a straight face but can't and end up laughing out loud. He relaxes when he finally realizes that I'm joking. "You're mean, Lily Edwards."

"Oh, come on," I continue to giggle, "don't be like that. You wouldn't have me any other way."

He purses his lips and tilts his head to the side like he's in deep thought. "No, I wouldn't."

Then he steps back out of my sight and I can hear him begin to rummage through his bag. "Except maybe I would change one thing."

Huh? "What? What do you want to change about me?"

"Nothin' big." I hear him stop rummaging so he must have finally found what he was looking for. He probably wants to get his journal so he can draw something here. He did tell me at one point that he would come out here to draw and relax for hours. It was good for him. 

I turn around and feel my breath catch in my throat because it isn't his journal in his hand. 

He's down on one knee on the ground, his hat discarded with his satchel off to the side and a mixture of apprehension and hope on his face. 

And there's a tiny black box open in his hand, with a ring sticking out. 

"Just your last name."

I take a deep breath in, my hand moving up to my chest in an effort to calm the fast beating of my heart. "A-Arthur--"

"Will you marry me, Lily Edwards?"

The hand slides up from my chest to my mouth as it opens in surprise. My vision begins to blur and my eyes feel hot as I feel tears well up, threatening to spill. The hope that was once in his eyes melts away in just fear, fear of the rejection that I might give him. 

If only he knew that that was the  _farthest_ thing from my mind. 

"Yes."

"What?" He asks, eyes widening. 

"Yes, yes yes _yesyesyes_ \--" I launch myself at him, knocking him backwards onto the ground with me sprawled on top. I kiss him, hard, my arms wrapping around his neck and squeezing tight enough that some part of me worries that I might choke him to death. He gets over the shock of me actually saying  _yes_ and is suddenly grabbing me back just as hard, his kisses just as full of passion as the ones I'm giving him. 

"You'll marry me?" He asks, breathless. His hands move up my face and swipe away the tears that are still falling. 

I nod, unable to express with my words just how much I  _will_ marry him. 

He grins, the smile taking over his entire face and lighting him up from the inside out. We're suddenly kissing again, rolling around in the tall blades of the grass where nobody but the birds in the sky above us can watch. 


	44. Trial and Error

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Everybody seemed to like that last chapter and it's easy to see why ;) Hope you guys enjoy this one just as much!
> 
> The chapter I'm going to be posting on Wednesday...be ready. She's a big one. 
> 
> Thank you for all the reviews and kudos! Love you!

I blink my eyes open sleepily and lift my head from where it's resting on top of my arms to look off towards the mountains sitting in front of me. A warm breeze brushes against my bare back and through the my loose hair resting there, tickling me. After the third session of Arthur and I making love I found myself drowsy and he laid the blanket from the back of Winston’s saddle onto the ground and urged me onto it, curling himself around me as I dozed.

Only now I don’t see Arthur beside me anymore. I’m laying here in the middle of this field completely naked—I was too tired to put any clothes back on and with Arthur with me at the time I didn’t think of how taboo this kind of thing might appear—and suddenly finding myself alone makes my body wake up and my senses return to me a lot faster.

“Sleepin’ Beauty is finally awake.”

Arthur’s calm drawl soothes my nerves and I turn my head to the side to see him sitting propped up against the tree, his bare feet less than a few inches from my hip. He slipped his pants back on but apparently decided to forgo the rest of his clothing, leaving them in the pile where my things are also resting. His journal is open on his lap, pencil freely moving across the page as his eyes flicker between me and the paper every few seconds. The corner of his mouth is pulled up in amusement, though I can tell he’s concentrating on his work by the set and slight hunch of his shoulders.

“How long was I out?” I ask with a yawn, moving my arms to cover my mouth.

“Don’t move,” he scolds, though I can tell he’s laughing on the inside, “ya can’t move yet. I ain’t finished.”

“Another drawing?” I hum, rearranging myself back into the position I was originally in when I woke up, even though my arms have fallen asleep from my head resting on them.

“With a work of art like this in front of me…it’s hard to pass up the opportunity, Darlin’.”

“Arthur Morgan, drawing naked women?” I tut him, trying not to laugh. “The scandal. The churches will riot.”

He grins. “The churches won’t be seein’ none of this—it’s for me and me alone.”

“You sure you don’t want to share with the others at camp?” I tease, closing my eyes once more as I feel the sun emerge from behind the fluffy clouds and begin to warm me from my head clear to my toes. I better be careful before I turn into a lobster.

“Nope, this is all mine.” Arthur says, the sound of his pencil once more scratching against the paper. “Ain’t nobody allowed to see this but me.”

Without Arthur even having to voice it I can tell he means more than just the drawing. The possessiveness behind his words sends a shiver down my spine.

“You never answered my question,” I crack one eye open and peer up at him.

“What was it?”

“How long was I asleep?”

He doesn’t answer for a few seconds, and I close my eye again. “About an hour, maybe less. I woke up and checked on Winston and then came back to find you had already moved onto your stomach, providin’ me with a _very_ appealin’ sight.” His words get heavy near the end, causing that tingle in my body to grow once more.

_We went three rounds already, how could I possibly be ready for another one?!_

_That’s a dumb question. This is Arthur I’m talking about here. Of course I’m ready for another round._

“Why did you have me meet Sister Calderon?”

The pencil stops making sound for a few seconds and then continues up once again. “She wanted to meet you.” He takes a deep breath. “Well, and I kinda wanted her to meet you too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Sister Calderon is…a very special woman. She and that Dorkins fellow ain’t like the rest of the folks in Saint Denis.”

I can’t help but snort. “They’re Catholic, Arthur. They live and breathe by the Bible, of course they’re going to be different.”

He pauses once more. “Are you Catholic?”

“Me? I mean, not really. I went to church a lot growing up because my mom was the daughter of a preacher, but the church we went to didn’t really have a specific denomination so it wasn’t really Catholic-strict. I stopped going somewhere around the time I started college.”

“And you’re 28?”

Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “What’s the date?”

I can hear the frown in Arthur’s voice when he speaks next. “Lily, did ya forget about your own birthday?”

“No,” I shake my head as much as I dare to. “My birthday isn’t until the Fall anyway. I’ll be 29 then, so yes I’m 28.”

I hear the scratch of Arthur’s palm against the stubble of his jaw. “You better not let me miss your birthday.”

“Why?” I peer up at him. “You going to plan something special?”

“Oh, I’ll make it _real_ special.” He says, and the promise in his voice and glint in his eye tells me he’s being serious.

“But I liked Sister Calderon,” I change the subject, clearing away the thickness beginning to form in my throat, “I’m glad you introduced me to her.” A sudden thought pops into my head. “Arthur Morgan—were you seeking her approval before you asked me to marry you?”

Either Arthur has been in the sun too long or his face is starting to turn red. “I was gonna ask you either way, but yes, I did want her to like you. But you wanna know a secret?”

“What?”

He leans forward a few inches and lowers his voice. “I already knew she was gonna like you.”

I roll my eyes with a soft laugh. Old cheese-ball that he is.

“Can I move yet?”

“Just a few more minutes.”

I sigh, settling down on the blanket beneath me. The sounds of the birds in the sky and Winston’s tail swishing through the air are relaxing and before I know it I start to doze off again.

It’s the feeling of warm fingers running lightly down my spine from my neck to the dip in my back that brings me back and I open my eyes up with a smile at Arthur. He’s moved away from the tree and is now stretched out alongside me on his side, his pants resting low across his hips while he props his head up with his other hand.

“You’re so… _soft_.” He murmurs, eyes following his hand as it skim across my back, down the curve of my ass to the back of my thighs. He leaves goosebumps in his wake, a content noise leaving me.

“And you’re rough. We complement each other perfectly.” I say back, reveling in the feel of his touch.

He scoffs at my answer. “I’m still surprised ya said yes.”

“Why?” I ask curiously, moving onto my side and mirroring his pose. His hand moves to rest on my hip and I don’t miss the way his eyes rove across the front of my body hungrily. We can get to the fun stuff later—I just want some answers out of him first.

He pauses, eyes briefly flickering to mine before dropping down to where my left hand is. I glance down as well, my eyes instantly drawn to the ring that’s sitting on my finger and glittering in the sunlight.

“Just surprised someone like you said yes to someone like me.”

I frown. “Of course I would say yes to you. I love you.”

He smiles shyly at that, his hand squeezing my hip. “And I love you, Darlin’.” He releases me with one final squeeze and rolls over onto his back, folding his arms behind his head and squeezing his eyes shut against the glare of the sun. “Just…I was engaged before to someone who I thought loved me as much as I loved them. Didn’t last.”

I scoot over to his side, curling up on his chest and resting my head on his chest so I can listen to the steady thrum of his heart. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. I promise you that. You’ll have to work very hard to get rid of me, Arthur Morgan.”

Arthur laughs softly, uncurling his arms and wrapping them around me tightly, pressing a rough kiss to the top of my head.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear ya say that.”

I never gave much thought to getting married. I always thought that it was for everyone else _but_ me. There was always the chance that I would meet someone and we would fall in love and maybe I would get married? But it wasn’t in my top five things to do. Hell, it wasn’t even in my top _ten_. But here, with Arthur? I’ve never wanted anything more in my _life_.

And I always thought I’d be firm and wouldn’t change my last name because of my profession—after all, _I_ am the one that went to college, paid a shit ton of money and took hard tests to get my degrees, not the other person—but to have the chance to be called Lily Morgan? It thrills me to the bone. If I ever get a job as a doctor here then I’ll probably keep my professional name, but I don’t have a problem legally changing Edwards to Morgan.

“Where’s this drawing of me at?”

Arthur reaches off to the side and grabs his journal, flipping through the pages until he gets to the desired one. I take it from his hands and feel my breath catch in my lungs.

It’s a stunning resemblance to what I look like in real life, just in black and white graphite. I’m lying on my stomach, my head pillowed on my arms beneath me. My eyes are closed and my lips parted slightly in my slumber with my hair gracefully swept back from my face and resting on my back. My body is nude and the explicit detail he gives to each of my curves is downright erotic.

“Wow…” I breathe out, transfixed with the art piece in my hands. Arthur drew me _beautifully_ , more than I actually look like in person that’s for sure. He even made sure to include the detail of the ring sitting on my finger, the only thing I'm wearing in the drawing. “This is beautiful, Arthur.”

I see the smirk forming on his face and can already _hear_ his cheesy comeback of _‘you’re beautiful’_ before it even passes his lips and so I press my finger to his lips, stopping the words before they can even begin to form.

“Just accept the compliment, Cowboy.”

He smiles beneath my finger and kisses it lightly. I pull my hand back and give him a smirk of my own.

“I do have one thing to say though…” I trail off, and feel Arthur stiffen slightly beneath me.

“What’s that?”

I raise a questioning brow down at him. “Proposing on the first date? Ballsy move, Morgan. Very ballsy indeed.”

He laughs louder than I’ve ever heard before, and I join him. He shakes his head, sliding his hands up to brush the hair back from my face and cup it gently, tugging it down so he can kiss me.

“I’m the luckiest bastard in the whole world.”

“That you are.” I smile, and then kiss him some more.

* * *

It takes another two hours but Arthur and I finally dress ourselves once more and ride back to the train station on Winston, Arthur once more buying a ticket for us to head back to Saint Denis. I snuggle in close to his side on the train and inspect the jewelry sitting on my finger for majority of the time, marveling at what it is and what it means for me. 

"Where did you get this?" I ask him, glancing up briefly to see him almost asleep in the seat, his hat tipped low over his eyes. His arm is over the back of my shoulders and resting there lightly but tightens when I bring him back to the present. 

"Get what?"

I hold up my hand. 

"Oh," he takes a deep breath, "well, I got it from a place in Saint Denis." His face suddenly pinches and I sit up, confused by the sudden change. 

"What?"

"I forgot to tell you somethin', but it ain't a big deal. I promise."

"Okay..."

"I got a letter from Mary a while back."

My eyebrows raise in surprise. I lean back against the window of the train, facing him. He sits up straighter in his seat and fixes me with an apologetic look. 

"What did it say?"

"She asked me for help with her father...said he was in trouble. I was in Saint Denis when I got the letter, and I figured I should make sure that everythin' wasn't as bad as she said. It wasn't. I helped her get some broach back from her piss-poor father and then we parted ways. I told her I was with someone and she got the idea. She gave me back the ring I proposed to her with back when we was just kids."

As happy as I am that Arthur was a good guy and did help her, a small part of me can't help but be hurt that he didn't tell me this when it happened. Arthur must notice how I seem to deflate because he reaches forward and tugs me into his chest. 

"Aw, Darlin' I'm sorry. This was when we first got to Shady Belle. I swear it was nothin'. I forgot about it for a long time, to be honest."

"Is this..." I lift my left hand in the air weakly, "is this the ring you gave her?"

"No! No. I promise. I'm not a superstitious man, but I didn't want to risk nothin' causin' you to say no so there was no way in hell I was keepin' that ring. Look," he clears his throat and grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to my knuckles, "I sold that ring and the one that Colm gave ya. Bought this one myself. I saw it and knew it was just perfect for you."

I mean, Arthur isn't  _wrong_. The ring is beautiful. It's a thin gold band with at least a 1.5 carat diamond sitting beautifully in the middle. It's simple yet gorgeous at the same time, but I can tell this still must have cost him a pretty penny.  _Perfect for me_. 

I let out a sigh, sinking into his warmth. "It's fine, I guess. I don't mind that you went and saw her, but I don't know, it feels like you held it back from me on purpose."

"That was in the past, Sweetpea. No more secrets, I swear."

_That_ twists my stomach a little bit. I'll never be able to not have secrets from Arthur. My whole past life is one giant secret that I'll never be able to share with him because he would never understand.

Or would he?

Arthur knows I'm different. He's believed me when others haven't, has been there more me when I've never felt more alone. Maybe this is a sign. Him proposing could be the one thing I need to give me enough courage to tell him the truth about me, about where I come from. 

There are barely any people in the train, not many people wanting to travel to Saint Denis at such an odd hour. 

"Arthur..." I say quietly, but I know he hears me. He shifts a little, letting me know he's listening. "What if I told you that I wasn't from...around here?"

"Huh? I already know you ain't from here."

"No," I shake my head and look up at him once more, "I don't mean just from Pennsylvania. I mean..." I trail off, frustrated with myself for not doing this earlier or thinking of a better way to tell him this. 

"Everythin' all right?"

I bite my lip, my thoughts whirling through my mind. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm not from  _here_? This time?"

Arthur release me with a frown, now completely and utterly confused. "What're you sayin'?"

"I haven't been completely honest with you. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound a hundred percent crazy but I swear I'm telling the truth."

"Lily, you're scarin' me."

I reach forward and put my hand on his arm comfortingly. "Don't be scared. Everything's okay, I promise."

He watches me carefully for a few moments before nodding--albeit hesitantly. 

I take a deep breath and send a quick prayer to God for some extra confidence. "I'm from the future."

He stares at me blankly for a few seconds, and then the frown on his face deepens. He presses the back of his hand to my forehead, feeling for a temperature. "Are you feelin' all right? You sick or somethin'?"

I reach up and grab his hand, pulling it down and lowering my voice in case there just so happens to be someone listening in. "I'm fine, and I'm serious."

Arthur shakes his head in disbelief. "What do you mean future?"

"I was born in the year 1990. Almost a hundred years from now."

Arthur looks at me like I've grown two heads. "Lily, I don't know what you're goin' on about but there's no way that happened. It's 1899. Did you hit your head?"

"I didn't hit my head," I say through clenched teeth, feeling myself grow frustrated. "It's--or, well,  _was_ 2018 when I came here. I'm an emergency room doctor at Bishop Hospital in Pennsylvania."

"Bishop? You mean like your horse?"

I nod, an excited thrill running through me as it finally looks like he's starting to listen to me. "Yes. It's why I named her Bishop." How do I tell him about who he is, who he  _really_ is? 

"All of this," I wave my hands around, "doesn't exactly...exist." I feel somewhat hypocritical as I go against what I was saying to Kylie just a few days ago. "Back where I come from, you're a part of a video game called Red Dead Redemption 2. You're the main character, actually."

"A video  _what--"_

"Video game. A game that's played on a tv or computer made by programming, usually to tell a story. I was playing out your story when I went to bed and woke up here. I don't know how, but Arthur,  _I'm not from here_."

Arthur goes very quiet, staring at me. The silence stretches on for one minute, then two, then three before I finally get uncomfortable enough that I have to break it. 

"Please say something."

"Why are you lyin'?" He asks lowly, his voice deathly quiet. 

His response takes me off guard. His features have pulled down into a semblance of a frown, and I can tell he's  _not_ happy with me at all right now. 

"What?"

"This ain't funny, Lily." 

_Fuck_. He doesn't believe me. It's not like I have any actual physical proof to show him that I'm telling the truth. The only things that came with me from my time are my clothes and they won't really be enough to convince anyone since they're just a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"If you're makin' this all up just to get out of the engagement, you don't need to. Just say what you mean 'nd be on your way. I won't--"

"No, no no no," I shush him, reaching forward and taking his face in my hands so he'll look at me. "I'm not saying this to get out of the engagement. I...I was just joking."

My heart shrivels as he finally relaxes and some of the smile from before comes back to his eyes. I'll never be able to tell him the truth. If he doesn't believe me now then I'll never be able to tell him. I shouldn't have even told him that much to begin with, but it is what it is. Hopefully I can spin this so that he won't even remember this talk. 

"That wasn't a funny joke, little lady."

I grimace, slowly moving back to lean against his side and hide my face from his view so he can't see the tears beginning to gather in my eyes. 

"Sorry, just felt like getting payback after you told me about Mary." It seems like I can't do anything but lie anymore. 

Arthur's arm once more wraps around me, secure and tight. He pats me reassuringly as the train bumbles on down the track. 

"Guess we're even, then."

Guess we are.

* * *

The time it takes to get back to the camp flies by. Hosea is the first to reach us, looking expectantly at my hand and then grinning widely once he notices the ring. He gives us his congratulations, hugging Arthur and giving me a kiss on the cheek. This stirs up the rest of the camp and they all come out, wondering what the fuss is about. Hosea tells them that Arthur proposed and I said yes as Arthur tugs me close to his side. Everyone starts to cheer and clap, the dreary mood that had been hovering over the camp seeming to lessen somewhat with the news. 

The women run up and hug me, wanting to see the ring and hear the story of how he did it. I tell them the short version, a smile plastered on my face the whole time. And I am happy, I really am. But the failure of trying to tell Arthur the truth of my past seems to loom behind me, waiting to strike. Kylie must notice it because she gives me a brief questioning look before smiling once more. I shake my head minutely, telling her that now is not the time to talk about it. 

"This is wonderful news," Dutch claps his hands together, walking over with a smile on his face that I haven't seen in  _weeks_. He claps Arthur on the back and hugs me, his body warm and comforting. This is the Dutch I know and like. This is the Dutch he should always be. 

"Tonight we celebrate, and then tomorrow we will have enough money to get out of here for good!"

Cheers ring out, people moving around to get ready for the party tonight. Sean is already popping off the lid of the box that holds the beer bottles, grabbing a few for himself before starting to hand them out to people. 

"Tomorrow?" I question Dutch. 

"We're moving a little ahead of schedule--the faster we strike the better. Hosea and I ironed out the plans."

"Well, what am I doing?" I ask. I didn't hear any word of these plans that they've been making for a while now.

"Stayin' here and helping pack." Arthur says pointedly, taking a bottle from Sean with his hand that isn't wrapped around my waist. "You ain't comin' with us to rob that bank."

"I'm helping." I say stubbornly. 

"She could help Abigail and I tomorrow with the distraction," Hosea offers as he sees my temper begin to rise. I wonder what distraction they plan on doing?

Arthur frowns, pondering over the idea for a few seconds. When he looks down at me he must see the determination in my eye because even if he says I can't go, _I'm fucking going_. There's no way I'm not and then letting something bad happen that I could have stopped. Not again. 

"I guess that's all right." He mumbles, taking a swig from the bottle. "That's it, though. You steer clear of the bank, understand?"

I lazily salute him with a roll of my eyes. "Aye-aye, sir."

The side of his mouth tugs up in a grin. "Sir? I like it."

"Okay you two, save it for the bedroom!" Karen cackles, already half a bottle deep in alcohol. Sean isn't too far behind her. 

"Enjoy your night everyone!" Dutch calls, reaching for a bottle himself. "Tomorrow morning be ready to act!"

 

 


	45. Banking, The Old American Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, for the late update. I meant to have this chapter out two days ago but this is a REALLY important part and it's also super long so I wanted to make sure I did it right (even if it is still kind of rough). Chapters are normally 7-8 pages long and this one is 11. 
> 
> I'll still be updating on Sunday, even if this one was posted late (providing that nothing comes up, of course).
> 
> There will be more of an author's note at the end. I don't want to spoil anything.

"Ya need to wake up, Mrs. Morgan." 

Arthur's low voice next to my ear rouses me from my sleep. I crack an eye open to look at where he's already dressed and out of bed, leaning down close to try to wake me up. How did I miss him climbing over me to get out? He's the one who sleeps next to the wall, not me.

"My name isn't Morgan." I tease with a smile, closing my eye and snuggling further down under the blankets. His hand moves up to gently run through my hair, soothing me. 

"Not yet, it ain't." He kisses the top of my head. "But it will be sooner rather than later, if I have any say in it."

"Oh really?" I question, leaning into his touch. 

"I'd do it right now if we had the time. Sadly we don't, so I need you to get up and get dressed. We're gonna be headin' out here soon for the bank and Abigail and Hosea are finishin' gettin' the wagon ready."

I sit up with a yawn, feeling a dull ache in the back of my head and some other places as a memory of what we all did last night. Arthur and I stayed up until at least two before retiring to our bedroom to properly celebrate our engagement until three. Needless to say that the past 24 hours have been very...energetic.

"Is everyone else ready to go too?"

"Dutch is talkin' with Hosea just to make sure they have everythin' ready. The others--mainly Micah--are gettin' antsy."

"Typical." I mutter under my breath, moving over to pull out a pair of pants and blouse.

Arthur clears his throat and I turn to him, suspicious. He purses his lips, letting out a sigh. 

"Hosea needs ya to wear a dress or somethin'. Abigial gave me one of hers for ya."

"I have to wear a dress?" I crinkle my nose, unhappy with the idea. 

"It ain't that normal at Saint Denis for women to wear men's pants. The less attention the three of ya drag to yourselves the better. Here," he says, grabbing the folded garment off the table and holding it out to me, "it's just for a few hours. Then when we get back and are on that boat out of here ya can wear whatever ya like."

I stare at the cloth, contemplating how crucial it really is that I wear it before finally caving. I guess I can see the logic in it, not wanting to gain more attention and everything. Upon closer inspection I see that it's more of a suit dress than a plain dress anyways, so I guess that's better. There's a skirt piece and a white blouse that buttons up to my neck with a pretty pattern embroidered alongside them. There's enough room in the neck for me to fit a finger or two so I know it won't strangle me. The jacket the same color as the skirt goes over the blouse and completes the look, making it somewhat sophisticated. I'm surprised that Abigail hasn't worn this more often, though considering we live out in the woods majority of the time I can understand her not wanting anything to happen to it. 

Less than ten minutes later I have Abigail's light blue dress on, though I opposed the corset and poof skirt that she also laid out for me to wear. The dress will be enough without having myself be even more restricted than I'm already going to be. It's really kinda pretty, actually. I can tell that it's been used a few times and is a couple years old, but that doesn't take anything away from it. I do my hair up in a fashion that Mary-Beth showed me a while ago, pinning most of it back in a bun with a few strands on the sides left hanging down. I slide on my usual pair of boots, trying my best to wipe away the dirt they've accumulated and straightening the jacket once I'm done. 

Arthur is also dressed up, and I'm going to guess that the rest of the men are as well. If Hosea, Abigail and I have to look like this then Dutch will expect nothing less of the others. They're the ones who are actually going inside the bank, after all. Arthur is wearing a similar suit to the one he wore to Bronte's party, though a little more casual. This one has more pockets and is less formal than the other one, giving him a dressy but relaxed feeling. His hair is swept back and face is trimmed so that light beard I love so much is nicely cleaned up. 

"Well," I turn back to where Arthur is waiting by the door, "what do you think? Do I look like a clown?"

Arthur pushes off the door frame slowly, eyes tracking from my feet all the way up to my face. He takes his time, approaching me slowly and absorbing every small detail. 

"You," he says as he grabs my hand and lifts it for a quick kiss, "are the prettiest clown I ever did see."

I roll my eyes and take my hand back, smacking him on the chest as he laughs. He reaches out and pulls me close, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against mine and across my cheek. I let out a sigh and relax, sinking into his embrace. 

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, pulling back after a few seconds and leads me towards the door with a gentle hand on my back, "and I can't wait to rip that off ya when we get back."

"You won't be ripping anything, otherwise Abigail might rip you." I warn him even as his words make me heat up inside. 

I can tell he sees right through me and knows what I'm really thinking but doesn't comment on it because he knows how late they're going to be if they don't leave soon. When we exit the house I see that the camp is busy and people are yelling at one another from different sides. 

"Bill, put those extra guns on Dutch's saddle!"

"Susan, you need to make sure that people are packed and ready to go when we get back!"

"I'm already on it, Dutch. Tilly, Mary-Beth, go get Karen and start loading things in the back of the wagons!"

Sean hurries past me, two crates of alcohol gripped tightly in his hands as he moves to the supply wagon. Of course he'd be worried about that. I look off to my left to the tents and see Kylie and Javier talking about something, the two of them standing rather close to one another. My eyebrows rise in surprise when Kylie steps forward and places a tender kiss on his cheek, him grinning cheekily afterwards and stepping back to bow lowly before turning and heading off towards where his horse is hitched. It's almost as if she knows I'm watching because she turns and looks at me as soon as he's gone. 

"I'll see you in a few minutes," I tell Arthur, knowing he's also getting restless leg and still has things to do before he can leave, "I just need to talk with Kylie really quick."

Arthur nods and heads off towards Dutch's tent as Kylie finally reaches me. She grabs my elbow and steers me off towards the medical wagon, where nobody else is currently in earshot. 

"I saw that," I tease, watching her blush lightly. 

"You saw nothing." She defends, waving off my words with her hand. Her gaze suddenly turns serious. "I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night--what happened that had you in such a bad mood?

"Bad mood? I wasn't in a bad mood last night."

She narrows her eyes. "Something happened. I could tell."

Do I tell her that I tried telling Arthur the truth? Who knows how she'll react to that. Kylie is the one that wants to go home, after all. But I don't want to keep secrets from her. Maybe her knowing this will be a good thing. 

"I tried to tell Arthur the truth about where I'm from yesterday when we were on our way back to camp." Her eyebrows rise in shock. "It didn't go very well. He thought I was lying to him to get out of the engagement."

"He didn't believe you?"

"He didn't believe me."

She bites her lip. "Well, I can't really say I'm surprised. If somebody told me the same thing then I would think they were crazy."

"I do believe he thought I had lost my marbles for a good minute."

She frowns, able to tell that I'm actually upset about it even though I'm trying to hide it with humor. "I'm sorry, Lily. I know that must have been hard. You and Arthur are close--really close. Anybody can see that, and for him to not believe you on that...I'm sorry."

I shrug, not wanting to voice just how upset it actually made me because then that would just make it all worse. "I don't think it would be a good idea to bring it up again. They can't ever know, Kylie." 

She nods solemnly, then pulls me in for a hug. "On a happier note--congratulations on your engagement. I'm so happy for you." She pulls back and smiles wickedly. "I can only imagine how many people back home would  _kill_ to be in your spot right now."

That draws a small laugh out of me. "I know. Most of the people I talked to about the game were in love with Arthur as well. Thank God none of them are here now. Murder is  _way_ easier to get away with here than back in our time and I know that my body would probably be found at the bottom of a ravine within a few days."

Her and I laugh at that. We make small talk about what we're going to do when everyone gets back and try not to verbally express our fears. For some reason I feel like actually saying them out loud would just increase the chances of something going wrong. 

"Do you ever..." she pauses, twisting her hands together, "do you ever wonder if we're still in the story line of the game? Or if it's all different now because of the changes we've made? That  _you've_ made?"

I let out a breath. "All the time." I lower my voice even though there's no one around to hear what we're saying. "Sean dying was supposed to have a big impact on the camp. He was the first death. But I stopped that, and now there's another gun here to help? I mean, he's going with them today. And Kieran is going to be here to help you guys and take care of the horses here."

Kylie nods. "And Kieran was supposed to die when he was taken by the O'Driscolls."

I can't help the shudder that runs through me at the reminder of being kidnapped by them, the reminder of Colm and his touch. I shake my head and turn to the medical wagon and begin to load a few small supplies into a bag to bring along with us. You never know when something might go wrong. 

"I don't know anything beyond this point. I never finished this chapter in the game. Hopefully having Sean and Kieran here will be a good thing?" She raises a shoulder, gesturing with her hands. "More people means more targets, sure, but it also means you have more people you know will watch your back."

I nod, agreeing with her. It does make me feel better knowing that--heaven forbid--if anything goes sour out there then Arthur will have some men with good aim out there helping watch his back.

"Lily!" Hosea yells my name, waving me over to the wagon as he helps Abigail into the seat. 

"I have to go," I say to Kylie, fastening my bag of supplies and giving her a quick hug, "we should be back soon. It'll probably get annoying, but just do as Miss Grimshaw says, okay? She can be rough but she knows what she's doing and is efficient."

Kylie smiles. "I'll be fine. Just watch out for yourself." She gives me a tight hug and then I'm heading over to the wagon, throwing my stuff in the back and walking to the front to Hosea. 

"Are you ready?" I nod. "Good. I'm going to have you ride in the back, but I need you to be careful of where you step." He leads me to the back and flips back the blanket that's lying over the lumps. There are crates of dynamite and bottles of moonshine. Oh, great, we're going to be riding on a live bomb.

"Gentlemen!" Dutch's voice is heard over everyone else's, silencing their side conversations. "Mount up. We have a bank to rob!"

I look around for Arthur and see him standing by Winston off to the side, also looking around, I'm guessing for me. I walk over to him quickly, not wanting to waste any more time and just get this whole thing over with. He smiles when I approach and holds his arms out. I walk straight into them and wrap my own around him as he squeezes me tightly. I can feel the tension in his body, the underlying fear that lies there and I know it's not for him, it's for  _me_.

"I'll be fine," I say into his chest, feeling him squeeze a little tighter at my words, "you have to make sure that  _you_ stay safe, understand? If you let yourself get hurt I'll give you hell."

"I'd expect nothin' less." He says, and then releases one arm so he can grab my chin and tilt my head up for a kiss. This isn't the same kind of kiss that we shared in our room, this one is rough and urgent and a  _promise_. "You be safe, Mrs. Morgan."

"That ain't my name," I breathe out and throw my arms around his neck so I can bury my face in his throat, "not until we get back."

"When we get back," he promises with a small smile, releasing me and mounting Winston. I place my hand on his knee, squeezing it one last time before stepping back and giving him space. 

"I love you." I say, my chest tightening as everything starts to move and I know he's about to go off and do something incredibly dangerous. 

"I love ya too, Darlin'." His eyes are soft as he peers down at me. 

"Hosea, are we ready?" Dutch asks, and Hosea nods. "Here we go, men. Be careful and remember the plan!"

I walk back over to the wagon, accepting Hosea's hand as help to climb in the back. Once I'm seated near the front just behind Abigail, Hosea picks up the reins and gets the horses going. The wagon jolts at first and then we start out at a brisk pace down the path. I wave at Pearson, Swanson, Mary-Beth, Tilly, Karen, Kieran, Kylie, Uncle and Sadie as we pass. They wave back, the only ones remaining behind to help get things ready for us to leave. The rest of us are going into Saint Denis--to the mouth of the beast itself. 

Dutch leads the rest of the men behind us. He nods his head once at me, a look of grim determination spelled over his face. Last night he was happy for Arthur and I, but now he's serious and none of that carefree attitude he had less than twelve hours ago is present. Micah and Bill are close behind, followed by Javier and Sean, and then Arthur and John bring up the rear. I know that Sadie really wanted to join them on this job but we also needed someone to stay behind who was capable of guarding camp should anything happen, and even though Kieran was there everyone knows that Sadie can hold her own better than he can. 

"You know the plan?" Abigail asks me, twisting in her seat a little bit as Dutch begins to talk with the others about their part of this whole job. 

"Kind of?" I grimace. 

She nods in understanding. "I know this was kind of thrust on ya. We have an easy part--"

"Don't say easy," Hosea lightly admonishes, "otherwise it will turn into the most difficult thing you've ever done in your life."

"Try tellin' me that once you've pushed a baby out of ya." Abigail says dryly, and I smirk at her. 

"Touché," Hosea agrees, a hint of humor in his voice. 

"The three of us are gonna take this here wagon and light everythin' up so that when it goes off it makes a big enough distraction that the police will all go there instead of bein' at the bank."

"We're going to pretend that the three of us are there to look at supplies for building a new house," Hosea explains, "we're very wealthy people who borrowed a wagon from the Killian's back in Rhodes."

"And we have no idea as to what is in here?"

"Precisely."

"Hosea is gonna park the wagon near one of the barns they use for storin' wood and while you 'n I go inside to distract the owner of the wood he's gonna light the thing and make a big commotion."

"I'm going to unhitch the horses first and lead them around to the other end of the building where I'll be waiting for you two. Then we can get out of there and head back to camp to wait for the others." Hosea tells me over his shoulder.

"We're gonna pretend that he's just our driver and was workin' for the people who own the wagon." Abigail adds, and very slowly I can see this plan starting to come together, but it still doesn't sit right with me.

I frown. "Maybe I should stay with Hosea while you go inside? I think it might be too suspicious if he's outside by himself near the wagon. What if other people see?"

"I appreciate your concern but I've planned this out." Hosea argues. "Once I've lit the dynamite I'll have about five seconds before everything goes up in smoke. There's less of a chance of you getting hurt if you stay with Abigail. It may make my story less believable, but it will make hers stronger."

"Okay..." I acquiesce, though I don't feel good about it. 

"Here's where we split off," Dutch yells, and I look back as Hosea steers us down one path with Bill, Javier, and Sean following behind us while the others go down the other path. I watch Arthur as he follows Dutch, giving me one last parting look and a short wave before he disappears around the bend with John and Micah close on their heels.

I know how dangerous all of this is, but I also know that Dutch is a smart man and if he worked with Hosea on this then there's a higher chance of success than failure. 

But there's this sense of foreboding that doesn't seem to want to leave. Even after all the reassuring I'm getting not only from other people but also giving myself, it's still sinking its claws in and not wanting to let go. I don't like it. 

* * *

"Here we are," Abigail says happily, her tone brighter than normal as Hosea parks the wagon in the spot where he said he would. There are only a few people around, but just enough that we should stay in character in case anyone should suspect something. "What do you think, Delilah?"

_Delilah?_ "I think they'll have just what we're looking for, Maria. If Uncle Frank recommended them then they have to be good."

Abigail purses her lips the slightest bit and I get the hint. I'm laying it on too thick. 

Her and I dismount while we tell Hosea to 'wait there while we go inside'. He nods, slowly climbing off the seat and moving to the front where the horses are pretending to check on them. Abigail laces her arm through my own and together the two of us head into the slightly run-down building that has a giant sign displaying 'Richner's Lumber'. We push the door open and a bell jingles above us, signaling our entrance. The only man in the shop, an older man in his late fifties with graying hair and crow's feet by his eyes, looks up and smiles politely at us. 

"Ladies!" He greets, stepping around from the counter and over in our direction. Abigail squeezes my arm just the slightest bit. "My name is Curtis. I own Richner's, here. What brings you here today?"

"Our Pa is lookin' for some wood for my house that's about to be built for my husband and I. It's his gift to us." She smiles at him, convincing him that what she says is true.

"What a wonderful gift! Any certain type of wood he have in mind? I have some real good pine in the back, but dependin' on how much you can afford I also have some spruce that was freshly cut."

I pretend to look around the store while Abigail and the owner talk about different prices and amounts of lumber. I'm glad Abigail knows what she's doing because I would be completely lost. As I look around I glance outside through the windows and see that Hosea has finished unhitching the horses and is calmly leading them away from the wagon, the bag of supplies I grabbed before we left slung across the back of one of the horses. Shit's going to get real serious real quick. 

"And what about you? Lookin' to build a house of your own for you and your husband?"

I almost go to tell him that I'm not married when Abigail squeezes me again, reminding me that I'm still wearing the engagement ring that Arthur gave me. I cover up my blunder by putting on a bashful act like I'm some shy person. 

"That's okay, my husband and I don't live near here. We've got a ranch house out in Pennsylvania." 

Curtis raises a brow. "Pennsylvania? You're awful far from home."

I smile over at Abigail. "We're visiting the newlyweds. Maria is my sister."

Curtis looks between the two of us, obviously confused because Abigail and I look  _nothing_ alike. We don't say anything more though and he seems to accept what I've said.

"All right, well, if you'll follow me to the back then we can find that wood your Pa was tellin' you about--"

A sudden loud  _BOOM!_ goes off, and I don't have to pretend to be startled. Abigail and Curtis also jump, the three of us whirling around to look out the windows to where our wagon was parked. It's not one giant flame and the old barn that housed what I'm guessing is Curtis's extra lumber is now pouring out a steady smoke and beginning to turn an angry orange and red from the fire inside. 

"Shit!" Curtis yells, pushing between Abigail and I roughly to run outside and over to the burning building. A part of me feels bad because Curtis seems like a genuinely nice person and here we are practically ruining his entire business. But then I remember that he has wood stored here and another building next door and I don't feel as bad. 

"We need to go," Abigail says in a hushed voice. "I'm going to get the money from behind the counter, you run out and meet Hosea."

"What? No! That wasn't a part of the plan, we need to now!"

She pushes me towards the door. "Just go! I'll be fine. I'll meet you two in less than a minute. I promise."

I give her one last look, glancing across the street and seeing that most people are distracted by the fire anyways to pay too much attention to her. I guess it'll be okay. 

"Be careful," I tell her, and then run out the door and down the sidewalk. I push through throngs of people, some of them moving to help Curtis with the fire and some of them simply standing around watching in horror. I walk around the corner and over to the alley that Hosea said he would be waiting at, about to go down when I hear something that causes my blood to freeze. 

"Keep those hands where I can see them, Mr. Matthews." 

_I know that voice_. 

I brace my hands on the brick wall and just barely peek around the corner of the building to see that Hosea is currently being held at gunpoint by none other than Agent Milton himself. 

_Shit._

_Fuck!_

I move back quickly, praying he didn't notice me and close my eyes tightly as I try to think of what to do. I don't have a gun on me, or even a knife. Of all times for me not to carry a weapon!

"We're not as dumb as some of you may think, Mr. Matthews." Agent Milton says, his voice slowly getting louder as he and Hosea walk towards me. 

Fuck fuck fuck _fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck--_

Just down the street a little ways I see more men in blue Pinkerton uniforms heading our way. Are they coming for the fire? Are they coming to help Agent Milton? Either way this has gone to shit and  _quickly_. And Abigail is going to be heading this way soon. I can't let her get taken as well. 

I take a breath, bracing myself for what's about to happen. As soon as Hosea has emerged from the alley, his hands behind his head in surrender I get ready to attack. Agent Milton walks out not two seconds later, the gun in his hand in the air and pointed directly at the back of Hosea's head. Oh God, I hope I don't make him accidentally shoot Hosea. 

Once he's out in plain view I throw myself at his side, knocking him off balance enough that the gun clatters from his hand to the ground and he trips and falls on the ground. The only problem is that I throw myself so hard that I  _also_ fall on the ground, halfway on top of him. 

"Hosea,  _run!"_ I shout, looking desperately at the older man as he looks wide-eyed between the two of us. I notice that he no longer has his gun on him, and even like that he moves forward as though he's about to help me. But then Abigail rounds the corner and looks at the three of us, freezing in her tracks. I feel Agent Milton beginning to move around beneath me and know that we don't have much time. "Get Abigail and  _get out of here!"_ I scream, my voice high and shrill. I plead with him with my eyes to listen to my words because if he stays then he  _and_ Abigail will die. They need to go, now.

Hosea's eyes turn down, a sadness I've never seen before on him overcoming him as he turns on his heel and runs towards Abigail. He yanks on her arm in the direction they just came from, trying to get her to move. I can see her protest but with one final tug he finally gets her to follow him, and the last I see of her are the tears building in her eyes.

"You little  _bitch!"_ Milton roars from beneath me, roughly shoving me off him so that I roll off to the side. I push myself up quickly and go to dive for the gun but someone gets a handful of the back of my blouse and jacket, effectively choking me and stopping my pursuit. Agent Milton stands to his feet and brushes the dirt off his clothing irately, stooping to pick his gun up from the ground. The person holding me yanks me to my feet and holds me there, like I'm a cat gripped by the scruff of their neck and paralyzed. 

Two more Pinkerton's run over to us a few moments later, stopping to glance between us in confusion. "Should we go after them?"

"They're gone," he grumbles, checking the rounds on his pistol briefly, "thanks to this one here." He steps forward and roughly grabs my chin, tilting it upwards so that my face is directly exposed to the light. "I know you, don't I?"

I don't say anything, just glare harshly at him. I'm half tempted to spit in his face but I know that wouldn't be good for me. So I settle with using my words. 

"Go to hell," I say lowly as my hands ball into fists at my sides. 

He releases me and steps back, nodding slowly to himself at first before he seems to become more sure of himself. "I remember you, yes. You're that girl that was at the camp with the Van Der Linde's." He narrows his eyes and looks me over from head to toe. "You should've left when I told you to, girl."

Maybe I should have just spit on him because instead of doing that my fist decides to lash out and hit him straight across the jaw. He was close enough that I was able to touch him but far enough away that it didn't have the effect I wanted it to. As soon as I touch him the Pinkerton holding me yanks me back once more, nearly lifting me off the ground in the process. He wraps his arms around my waist and pins my arms to my sides. 

Milton straightens up and rubs the spot where I hit him, peering at me as if sizing me up. I feel like a piece of meat under his gaze. 

"She'll have to do." He mutters, and then steps forward to pull me from the Pinkerton and point the same gun that was used against Hosea now at  _me._  

Fuck. 

"Move." He orders, grabbing hold of one of my shoulders and pushing me roughly, causing me to stumble over my own feet. I pause and he doesn't hesitate in roughly shoving the cold barrel of the gun against the back of my head. 

My mind instantly flashes back to that O'Driscoll--Patrick--and how he did the same thing to me. Only this time I don't have a knife on me that I can shove into his throat. And the scary thing is that I  _want_ to shove a knife into this man. 

We walk towards the center of town, and I note with a sinking feeling that we're headed straight for the bank. Milton must notice the change in my demeanor because he chuckles darkly behind me. 

"We knew the whole time about the bank robbery. The distraction was just a chance for us to snatch you stragglers up, but since you let Hosea Matthews and Abigail Roberts get away then I guess you'll have to suffice."

_He knew?_   _How could he have known about any of this? We didn't start planning this until after the thing with Bronte happened, and there hadn't been any sign of Agent Milton and his Pinkerton's anywhere near Saint Denis at the time!_

Unless someone let something slip. But who could have done that?

Before I even have a chance to think further on that he's tightening his grip on me and pushes me along faster. The bank comes into view in front of me and with it my stomach sinks even further (if that's even possible at this point) as I note what has to be at least a  _hundred_ Pinkerton's. All of them are stationed around the bank--behind wagons, crates, some even on the balconies above--and waiting for further instruction with their guns ready. 

I look through the windows of the bank and see figures moving about, avoiding the open areas and hiding behind the walls where they can't get shot. 

"Come out! It's over!" Agent Milton shouts behind me, his hold on me not lessening in the slightest. I would try to run but with as many Pinkerton's are around right now and with the gun to my head I know that I would either be caught or dead within seconds. 

Milton pushes me forward roughly, the two of us moving out from behind the wagon and into the front of the others where everyone can see us, including the people in the bank. The gun presses harder against my head and I stumble beneath it, his hold on me the only reason that I don't fall to the cobble street beneath us. 

"Dutch! It's over!"

I look up and briefly see Arthur's face peering around the window and notice the way his eyes seem to widen when he sees me. 

_"Lily!"_ He suddenly disappears from view as though someone yanked him back.

"Get out here!  _Get out here now!"_ With each word he pushes the barrel tighter against my head as though accentuating the severity of the situation. 

"You let her go, you son of a bitch!" Arthur's voice has an anger to it that I've never heard before, _nev_ _er_. 

"Mr. Milton," Dutch adds, "let my friend go...or folks are gonna get shot unnecessarily!" I can tell that Dutch is scrambling right now, thrown off guard by this surprise ambush and as unsure of what to do as the rest of us. 

"Your friend?" Milton questions with a laugh. "Why would I do that?"

"Come on, Milton!"

"It's over!" Agent Milton says with a tone of finality, causing my blood to run cold. "No more bargains. No more deals."

"I swear to  _Christ_ if you hurt her--!" Arthur's voice echoes around us. Any normal person would cower in fright from the tone he has right now, but Agent Milton is no normal person. 

And I know that this isn't looking good. 

Arthur peers around the window again and I fear that if he continues doing that then one of the men here with guns are going to kill him. 

"Arthur, get  _back!"_ I cry, my voice breaking with the emotion that's threatening to choke me. I see the broken look on his face briefly before he does as I say. 

"Mr. Milton," Dutch tries again, "this is America. You can always cut a deal!"

I know that Dutch is now grasping for straws. There's too many Pinkerton's and not enough of us. Someone is going to get hurt, and it's not going to be pretty. 

And not for the first time since I've arrived here, I feel  _scared_. Not just scared, but terrified. For myself, for Hosea and Abigail, for Dutch and them, for  _Arthur_. This isn't a win-lose situation. This is a lose-lose one and there are going to be lives lost. 

"I've given you enough chances..." Milton's voice has quieted down, the venom behind his words making me start to shake as I fear for what comes next. 

He suddenly pushes me forward and away from him into the street. I trip in my skirt with a short yell and almost fall to the ground but catch myself, stopping a few feet away until I'm standing halfway between the Pinkerton's and the bank. Why did he do that? Is he going to let me walk to them? It can't possibly be that easy? 

I straighten myself slowly and try to spot a friendly face so that I know I'm not alone. Arthur's hand curls around the window ledge and he peers around, watching me carefully with wide and fearful eyes. He's not scared for himself, he's scared for me.  _I'm_ scared for me. I just want this awful day to be over. I want to be back at Shady Belle, curled up in Arthur's arms in bed and planning our wedding. I want to hear Jack's playful shouts and Pearson and Sadie's arguing. I want to listen to Javier play the guitar around the campfire while the others sing and tell stories. I want to be back there, with my family. 

I want to go back home with Arthur.

I feel myself begin to shake in my boots as the seconds seem to drag by. 

"Lily--" Arthur starts, but a sound behind me causes me to turn halfway back in fear. 

The biggest mistake of my life.

I hear a loud sound, not as loud as the explosion that Hosea set off as part of the distraction, but still as lethal. A sound that I've heard many times before since I joined this group. 

_"NO!"_

Followed shortly after the loud sound is a searing pain in my chest, the force of what hit me causing me to turn back towards the bank and stumble once more, only this time I do fall to my knees. My hands grapple at the area and time around me seems to slow down. Shouts and cries erupt around me, though slightly muffled. I look down and blink lazily as I pull my hands back and see the bright red that's staining my palms. 

I find the source of the color to be blood that's pouring openly from the bullet wound on my chest, the entry wound about the size of a dime. My body tightens up and relaxes all at the same time, the blinding pain that I had been feeling moments ago dulling down to something almost non-existent. 

I'm no idiot. I know that isn't good. I know that being shot in the chest has a low survival rate, especially if it's straight through the lungs like I've been shot. I briefly notice in the back of my mind that I'm not taking in air anymore but I can't feel anything besides the warm liquid that has begun to seep out of my mouth. The copper taste hardly registers on my tongue. 

_"LILY!"_  

The words are slow to reach my ears, and even as I look up at the source I feel myself falling down to the ground once more. 

_"...Ar...thur...?"_ I mumble, almost too quiet for myself to hear. I see him fighting against someone in the bank, trying to throw his body through the window in a desperate attempt to reach me. 

My top half collides on the dirty street, my body limp and head facing the front of the bank. I barely make out Arthur's cries and teary face as my body begins to separate from itself. The world is going dark, even as my eyes remain open. I have enough in me to tell Arthur I love him one last time with my thoughts. 

And then I'm gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry
> 
>  
> 
> i believe in happy endings, don't worry


	46. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I'm so sorry for not only the cliff hanger of the last chapter but also for the amount of time it took me to get this one out. I'm not going to lie, this was super hard for me to write and even as I'm posting it I'm still not sure if it's the finalized product I originally had in mind. 
> 
> That being said ! I have the next few chapters planned out, but since they're so detail-driven and have so much that has to happen I'm not sure if I'll make the deadline for Sunday or not. This story will (hopefully) be finished by the end of the summer. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I love the encouragement you guys send me. <3

My eyes fly open quickly, against a resistance like they haven't been open in a while and seen anything besides the insides of my eyelids. I slam them shut again against the harsh white light that seems like it wants to burn them out of my head until they drip down in a puddle to the ground. 

A cool rush of air floods into my nostrils and I suddenly become aware of something that feels like it was rammed straight down my throat. I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of disinfectant and other medications. I sit up slowly, wincing as my eyes adjust to the light above me and I take in my surroundings. With each beat of my heart it runs up and thumps against the inside of my skull, the remnants or beginning of what feels like a large migraine.

_ Wait, a light above me? _

I look down at my hands when I feel a rough cloth beneath them and see a standard white sheet thrown over my body. I'm in a hospital gown with different tapes and IV's stuck into the crook of my arm, along with what feels like at least five electrodes stuck to my head. I raise my hand that has the pulse oximeter on it and lift it to my face.

_ There's a feeding tube sticking out of my mouth right now. _

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. A feeding tube? Lights? Hospital gown? Am I in a hospital?

I look over towards the door and see a white board posted on the wall beside it. I blink my eyes, helping them adjust and then I squint to make out the words. 

_ Bishop Hospital _

_ Patient: Lily Edwards _

_ Caretaker: Dr. Stephanie Gonzalez _

_ Priority Level: 4 _

With each word that I read I work myself into more and more of a panic. Bishop Hospital? Level 4 priority? Level 3 is for people who were just shot or nearly died. What happened to me that I'm a level 4?

_ Am I back in my own time? How the hell did I end up back here?!  _

It all rushes back to me in one breath. The hot sun high in the sky, burning my skin with its heat. Standing in the middle of a street by myself, surrounded by people on either side. Being terrified.  _ Arthur _ . A gunshot. Falling. Darkness.

The door is suddenly pushed open quickly, nearly slamming off the wall behind it. I look over to see none other than my best friend, Cam, standing there in shock as we stare at one another. I vaguely notice that the alarm behind me has been going off, alerting my doctor and nurse assigned to me at the time that my heart rate is rising into dangerous territory. 

"Lily?" Cam whispers, moving quickly to my side. 

I want to cry out but I end up choking on the feeding tube, tears streaming down my face as I scramble to yank the thing out. One part of me registers that this is a very bad idea because depending on how long that thing has been inside my body it could be attached to my insides, but the other part of me doesn't give a shit and just wants it  _ out _ . 

"Lily, wait, calm down!" Cam scolds, prying my hands away from the tube and holding them off to the side. I look up at him with pleading eyes, wanting his help. He reaches behind my head and hits a button on the wall. "Dr. Gonzalez, she's awake." He pulls back and looks down at me, a smile spreading across his face as he looks at me. "You're  _ awake!" _

_ I'm awake?! _

It's over an hour before I can finally speak. Dr. Gonzalez came rushing into the room not even thirty seconds after Cam called for her and they worked quickly to calm me down so they could get the tube out. It hurt like a  _ bitch _ and they had to give me pain medication after it was ripped out. There's not really an easy way to do that sort of thing. I'm just glad it wasn't the type of tube that had to be removed surgically. 

In that hour I've figured a few things out. Someway, somehow, I woke up back in my current time. Or, well, sort of my current time. The calendar on the wall shows the date January 12th, so that means over a month has passed since I've been asleep. 

_ Asleep _ . That's what Cam explained it as. Asleep is a term we used when we were trying to be polite to a patient who went through something way worse than simply being asleep for a long time. Telling by the way he grimaced after he said it, he knows I saw right through his words. 

"What happened?" I croak when Dr. Gonzalez has finally finished going over my vitals and checking to make sure my esophagus isn't damaged. She's been working here longer than I have, and I can only guess that something really bad happened to me for her to be my doctor. 

Cam and Dr. Gonzalez share a look before she politely excuses herself and exits the room, shutting the door behind her. Cam drags a chair up to the side of the bed and sits down with a large sigh. I can see the dark circles under his eyes, a clear indication that he hasn't been getting proper sleep. 

"What version do you want?" He asks as he reaches over to the bedside table to fill a glass of water for me. He helps me lift it to my lips and drink slowly, the cold water a blessing to my raw throat. He puts it back down on the table once I'm done, right beside a beautiful vase full of lilies. The table on my other side also has another vase of flowers. There are a few cards and balloons that have begun to deflate at the other end of the room, sitting on the windowsill. I got a room with a view?

"The hard one." I state plainly. I don't want him to hold anything back from me. 

He takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together in front of him. "You had a brain aneurysm."

I stop breathing for all of two seconds. A brain aneurysm? Did I have a stroke?

"You've been in a coma for almost a month now. I...we've all been worried  _ sick _ , Lily. We thought you were never going to wake up."

I lay back slowly on my pillows, allowing the information he just gave me to sink in. A brain aneurysm. A coma.  _ Asleep _ . 

What does this mean? Does this mean that the past...the timeline with the Van Der Linde's, with  _ Arthur _ wasn't real? And how could it have only been a month? I was stuck in time with Arthur for a little over three months,  _ at least _ . How could time last so much longer there than it did here? 

I feel so tired and weak. My body feels like its aged ten years, when in reality I've barely crossed into 2019. This is insane and the more I think about it the bigger my migraine becomes. 

"Do we know why I had the aneurysm?"

Cam shakes his head. "It happened out of nowhere. When you didn't show up to work the next day we got worried--there was no word that you were calling off and you  _ never _ miss work."

I can't help but let out a short laugh even as my throat begins to choke up with unshed tears. Of course it would be the dedication to my job that would let people know something was wrong with me. 

"Your parents have been here but had to leave for a few days since apparently your brother was experiencing troubles at the farm and your sister was going through some problems with the baby."

I frown. "Is everything okay?"

Cam nods. "Nothing major, just some early labor pains. They've been informed that you're awake and they're getting ready to fly back as we speak."

_ God. _ My parents. I haven't thought of my family in so long that I kind of forgot they existed. Is that horrible of me? I knew they were still  _ here _ , but I didn't know if I was also here. Turns out that I've been lying in this hospital bed ever since I was sucked back in time. 

To 1899. To the wild west that's filled with video game characters. A game that has Arthur in it. A man that I've fallen in love with. A man that I was going to  _ marry _ . 

"Have I missed much?" I ask quietly.

Cam shakes his head. "Not really. We've all been too worried about you to go on with our lives."

"Sorry," I say, sinking into the bed even further than I had been before.

"Oh, God, Lily please don't apologize for something you had no control over." Cam sounds offended that I would even think of doing such a thing. "This may have been hard for us, but it couldn't have been any better for you."

_ If only he knew _ . 

Sure, I had been kidnapped, nearly killed more times than I care to remember, and gotten the shit knocked out of me more than once--but I also met some great people and fell in love. 

And even though a part of me knows it's wrong, I can't help but want to go  _ back _ . 

But I'm here. In a hospital gown in 2019 surrounded by technology and recovering from a brain aneurysm that apparently almost killed me. When they took the tube out I looked at my body under the gown--there are no wounds, no fading bruises. There's no scar left from the bullet that I  _ felt _ pierce my body after Agent Milton shot me. Like everything I experienced in that time period was just a dream I had while I was in a coma. 

An intense wave of sadness washes over me as I realize that none of it probably was real. That even though it  _ felt _ and  _ seemed _ real, I'll never be able to go back. I'll never get to talk to those people again, I'll never get to feel Arthur's warm embrace wrapped around me. 

I don't even realize that I've begun to cry until Cam has reached forward and grasped my hand in his own, patting it gently and comforting me in the best way he knows how. But that's not how I like to be comforted, not anymore. Now I just want to be surrounded by the smell of gun smoke and pine trees, strong and scruffy arms scratching my skin while a low voice whispers soothing words in my ear. 

But I'll never get that again. 

"Can you get me a phone or something?" I ask, needing to look some stuff up. Cam frowns. 

"Don't you want to rest?"

"I've been asleep for a very long time--I'd like to catch up on some stuff that I missed."

He thinks about my request for a few seconds before nodding, albeit reluctantly. He knows I'm aware that it's not really good for a person who has had a head injury to be near a computer screen or anything of the sort, but at the moment I don't really give a shit. He walks out of the room and is gone for less than a minute, returning with a small iPad. He hands it to me and begins to do a routine check, going over my vitals. 

I look through news websites, seeing what's been going on in the world recently. Nothing big, just the same political mess that's been going on for years now. 

I'm almost afraid to do it, but I know that if I don't do it now then the curiosity might actually kill me. I open YouTube, typing in  _ Red Dead Redemption 2 walkthrough _ . I can almost feel Cam scoffing behind me. 

"Naturally the first thing you look up when you wake up is that game."

I almost say something smart to him but bite my tongue, reminding myself that he knows nothing of what I experienced and the last thing he probably knows about it is that I loved playing the game. 

_ If only he knew _ . 

I scroll through the videos posted by multiple different people, looking for one without any commentary so that I can just pay attention to the people and not someone screaming every time an enemy pops on screen. 

I find one that takes place around the time I had paused in playing the game. My heart begins to beat wildly as I wonder as to what I'll find. Will the same events take place that I experienced, or will something completely different happen, proving that none of it was real? My stomach twists with unease at the possibility, and I almost close out of the app. 

But then I finally get the confidence and press play, watching the video load and open up. 

It's impossible to put into words the feeling I get when Arthur appears on screen and I hear his voice through the tiny speakers. My throat chokes up and I start sobbing before I even know what's going on. 

"Hey, hey," Cam tries to console me, absolutely thrown by what could possibly be upsetting me. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay now, yeah?"

I nod, my cheeks hot as tears stream down my face. I continue to watch the video with a broken heart and try to pay attention to what's going on in the game. 

After ten minutes, it finally happens. 

_ I was there for that _ . 

I pass the point that I stopped playing the game and started  _ living  _ it, and it all  _ comes true _ . It's a little different, some things turning out differently and worse than when I was there, but it happens. I watch with a sick stomach as Tilly is taken by the Foreman brothers, and when Kieran's beheaded body is paraded down the driveway at Shady Belle I have to have Cam get me a bedpan to vomit into. Tensions between everyone in camp are much worse and escalate horribly, fights breaking out constantly and turning each other against the other. I watch as Lenny, Dutch, and Arthur crash in the trolley and Dutch goes on about how unwell he feels. I watch as Micah attacks the others with his words and becomes a snake in Dutch's ear, turning him against the people who have been there for him since the beginning. 

I watch Hosea die. 

Cam almost takes the iPad away from me when that happens, but I threaten to hit him when he tries. My chest tightens up and I start hyperventilating, unable to catch my breath. Watching the heartbreak on everyone's faces as they see him held hostage and then shot down in the middle of the street, hearing the heartbreak in their voices and cries of anguish. 

Does this mean it was all real? Does this mean that what I went through actually happened and I didn't just dream all of it? I know that it's possible that I overheard some other people talking about the game and they spoiled it for me without me even realizing, but the actual likelihood of that being the case is slim to none. 

_ Was I really there? Did I really travel through  _ time?!

Did they all react like that when it was  _ me _ in the street and dying? 

And then Lenny dies and I start sobbing once more. Cam fights back against me this time and manages to take the only connection to Arthur I have away from me, a strangled cry leaving my lips in protest. 

"No!" He shouts, holding the iPad just out of my reach. "You're sick, Lily! Getting upset over some game isn't helping right now so you're being cut off."

I fall back into the pillows and start to cry some more, knowing that as angry as I am that he did that, he's right. I am sick. I'm not at 100% right now and working myself up to the point I pass out isn't going to be helping any time soon.

"I have to go do my rounds but I'll be back soon, I promise. I'll bring Amy and maybe we can make you feel a little better." I can tell Cam is sad and feels bad for me, but I don't know how I can tell him how I'm feeling right now. There's no possible way he would understand. 

When he shuts the door behind him and I'm once more left alone I don't hold my emotions back. I bring a hand up to my face to wipe away my tears and pause when something rough brushes harshly against my skin. I pull it back and look through blurry eyes at my hand, blinking them to clear my vision. 

I sit up sharply when I can finally make out the object, grabbing my hand tightly and moving it under the light so I can inspect it closer, wanting to be absolutely and positively  _ sure _ that what I'm seeing is real and not just a figment of my imagination because right now I'm not sure what's real and what isn't. 

But this is definitely real.

I'm sitting in this hospital bed connected to more wires than I can count, and the engagement ring Arthur gave me is resting on my left hand where it was the last time I saw it. 

Back in 1899. 

Two days later and it's as though I've had an epiphany. Everything I went through had to have been real. Going back to 1899 was real. Arthur is  _ real _ . Do I know how it happened? No. Am I going to find a way to go back? Fuck yes. 

I've missed 2019, I'm not going to lie. Technology has been a huge crutch to me for majority of my life, but after being without it and surrounded by capable people I've learned that none of that stuff matters if you don't have the right person in your life. 

And sadly my right person is back in 1899. 

Cam still hasn't given me back any technology I can use to watch more of Red Dead Redemption 2, but I've been getting stronger every day and I've finally convinced him today that I'm ready to have it back. He was still reluctant but after I gave him my puppy dog face he was unable to resist. 

As soon as I have it back in my hands I'm ready to open YouTube, but a sudden thought pops into my head and before I can stop I've begun typing it into the search bar. Cam must get curious as to what has so suddenly grabbed my attention because I can feel him getting closer so he can peek over my shoulder. 

"Who's Kylie Callahan?"

I don't answer him, just wait impatiently for the search page to load. Finally,  _ finally _ , the page pops up and I start scrolling. i'm only four results down the page when something catches my eye. 

_ Two men and one woman involved in deadly car crash in Montana. _

Oh shit. Oh  _ shit.  _

I quickly open the article and start reading it, my eyes looking for her name. It's not good when I finally find it. 

_ Reese Graham and Quinton Jozefick were driving home from Clandestine's Bar when they crashed through a wall into the house of Kylie Callahan. The two men were three times over the legal limit when the accident occurred.  _

_ Graham, the driver at the time, was killed upon impact. Jozefick succumbed to his injuries hours after being taken to the hospital via ambulence. Callahan, who had been in the living room in the direct line of the car at the time, has been unresponsive and remains on life support at this time.  _

Fuck. Holy shit, she was in a  _ car accident? _

I let that information sink in. She was in a car accident and according to the article is just barely alive. 

I had a brain aneurysm and nearly died from it. 

The last part of logic that still lives in my brain wants to say that it's all a coincidence. That maybe her name and occupation  _ just so happens _ to be the same. But I know it's not. 

And when I go into the images and a picture of Kylie pops up, it confirms everything. It's her. Two girls on opposite sides of the country who almost died and were somehow thrust back in time where people who are a part of a video game are somehow alive and living. 

But why Kylie? Why  _ me? _

"So who is she?" Cam presses again, walking over to the chair at the side and sitting down. 

"Who?" His voice pulls me out of the crazy train of thought I'm riding on. 

"That Kylie chick," he waves at the iPad that my hands are holding onto tighter than I originally thought, "do you know her or something?"

"You could say something like that." I mumble, closing out of that tab and opening YouTube back up so that I can continue watching the game. 

There's a sudden knock at the door. I look up just as Amy pushes it open with a smile, peeking her head around the edge and checking to see nothing is happening before walking in and shutting it behind her. She walks over with a brown bag and hands it to Cam, giving him a kiss on top of his head before turning to me and putting a brown bag on the bed for me as well and also kissing my head. 

"Hey," she sits down on the bed and begins to open my bag, "I figured you'd want something besides just the same hospital food so I went out and got some of that mac and cheese from Joey's that you like so much."

"You went all the way to Houtzdale for me?" I ask, my jaw nearly dropping. "Amy, that's so sweet. Thank you." 

"You definitely deserve it. After everything that's happened? Maybe now you'll be a little better at taking some time off every once in a while."

"Amy," Cam scolds. I laugh. 

"Maybe some time off would have helped me relax a little more, definitely." I say with a sarcastic eye roll. She laughs along with me. We both know that's not true. 

"Watching Red Dead again?" She asks as she glances at my iPad. I nod at her. "Well then I'm  _ really _ glad I got you the food. With the way that game ends hopefully this will make you feel better."

That throws me off guard. "What?"

"She hasn't finished the game yet," Cam tells Amy, "she hasn't had a chance to."

Amy overs her mouth in surprise. "I'm so sorry. Ignore me. I didn't say anything."

"No, no," I shake my head, sitting up on the bed and leaning closer to her. "what are you talking about? Why would I need to feel better?"

Amy and Cam share a look. If I were anyone else I would think it's ridiculous that they're acting like this telling me the ending of a video game, but they must know how special this game and characters are to me because Cam makes a face that tells me he doesn't want to say anymore. 

"Cam," I say slowly, "what happens?"

"You don't mind me spoiling it?"

I shake my head quickly. 

He stares at me for a few seconds before shrugging, giving into my demands. "I guess the people all fall apart. I mentioned to Rodney how much you loved--love, sorry--the game and he told me what happens. There's a big falling out, some people turn against the other and a bunch of them die."

"Who?" I croak, my face beginning to heat up as all the blood rushes north, leaving my stomach feeling like a cold pit. "Who dies?"

He shrugs again, looking a little more uneasy as he can see how upset I'm getting. "I don't know the characters, Lily. I just know they die." He must remember something because his face suddenly lights up. "Oh! The main character dies and then you play as someone else in the epilogue. Shitty writing on the developers part, if you ask me."

"I agree. Who kills the main character?" Amy chimes in. She glances over to me and freezes, her brows instantly furrowing as she places a calming hand on my arm. "Lily, are you feeling okay?"

Cam moves to my side quickly, brushing the hair away from my face and trying to get my attention. "Breathe, Lily. Take deep breaths. It's just a game, okay? If I had known you were going to get this upset then I wouldn't have told you. This is too soon for you to be getting worked up."

_ Too soon for you to be getting worked up. _

_ Too soon for me to be getting worked up?  _

Cam just told me that Arthur dies. 

He fucking  _ dies _ . 

I ignore Cam and Amy and pull out the iPad, quickly going back to the search bar of Google and typing in 'Arthur Morgan' with shaky fingers. The results that pop up cause my entire world to stop turning. 

Flashes of words like 'tuberculosis', 'betrayal', and 'beloved character death' flash in front of my eyes. I scroll down, hoping to find something that proves it's all a lie, but they're all the same. 

There are different endings, all of them resulting in his death. Either stabbed by fucking  _ Micah _ or the tuberculosis that has been plaguing his body since apparently chapter fucking 2 consuming him and leaving him to die on a mountain cliff. 

A tear drop falls on the screen of the iPad and I know that it's mine. Arthur has tuberculosis. I  _ knew _ that something was wrong, I fucking knew. I could hear the rattle in his chest and noticed for some time now that he would cough every once in a while and act as though he couldn't catch his breath. My dumb ass thought he had a cold and here this whole time he had tuberculosis. 

There's no cure for tuberculosis in 1899. There's barely even one in this time. There are treatments, but no guarantee that it rids the person entirely of the disease. How could he have possibly gotten it? It's not like he went around people who were sick willingly or made out with others, except for me and I  _ definitely _ don't have tuberculosis. 

A name in one of the results catches my eye.  _ Thomas Downes _ . 

The man that Strauss made Arthur get money from. The man that Arthur knocked around, resulting in his blood landing on Arthur's face. 

A direct transfer of tb. 

I shove the iPad to the side and throw the blankets off my body, moving around to get up. 

"Lily, what are you doing?" Cam asks uncertainly, unsure of whether to push me back down on the bed or grab my arm and steady me on my feet. 

I stand on wobbly legs, weak from disuse and aching already. I take Cam's hand and hold on so I don't fall but continue making my way to the door. 

"Lily!" Amy stands as well, watching me with an open mouth as I head for the door. 

I glance at her with determination. There's no way that I'm going to let that horrible fate actually happen to Arthur. Not as long as I possess the knowledge that I do and can  _ do  _ something with it. 

"I'm going back."   
  


 

 


	47. Time Warp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo sorry for the late update. The summer is ending and I'm trying to get all my ducks in a row. I hope to have this story finished before I go back to college, so fingers crossed!
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and reviews! And hello to new readers, SORRY FOR COMING AT A TIME WHEN THERE'S A HUGE CLIFFHANGER. I promise it gets better <3
> 
> Love you guys !!

I have no clue what I'm doing. 

Well, correction: I  _had_ no clue what I was doing. Now I have an idea, just a tiny one, but am still pretty much 95% lost as to what the fuck it is I'm going to do. 

I'm going back, that much I know. Hearing from my parents and siblings and everyone else under the sun has made me miss them more than I realized at first, but seeing the way that Cam and Amy interact with one another opens up a gaping wound in my chest that refuses to close unless one other person is here with me. 

Which makes  _everything_ very difficult. 

But also makes it incredibly  _easy_ to choose where I'd rather be. 

One of my main priorities should be focusing on how I'm going to get back, but for the past three days I've been researching tuberculosis and ways to treat it, possible cures. There are medications that a person can take to treat tuberculosis, and though it may take a few months, it shows promise of isolating the disease, if not completely clearing it out. Isoniazid is a big contender right now. A big problem with that is that Isoniazid isn't-- _wasn't_ , damn this is hard adjusting back--even invented until 1952. That means that there's no medication for the doctor to give Arthur to take when he gets diagnosed with it. Which means Arthur is going to think that he's got a death sentence.

Not if I have anything to say about it. 

My research methods are limited to the iPad the Cam supplied me with, but with my security clearance and my old biology and chem classes I took back in college, I  _just_ might be able to mix something up on my own. It won't be easy, and it certainly won't be cheap, but I  _will_ find a way. The first thing I do when I get back--because I'm going back--is fixing up Arthur. 

The second thing is going to be sitting down and having a serious talk with Dutch. 

The third thing will be shooting Micah in the head. 

A half a year ago, if someone had told me that I wouldn't even flinch at the thought of killing someone, I would probably smack some sense into them because I would  _never_ kill anyone. But that was the Lily who wasn't sent back in time, met some good (and bad) people, and also fell in love. That wasn't the Lily who grew up and realized that she would do  _anything_ to protect the people she loves. 

"What are you reading now?" Cam kicks the door shut with his foot, his hands full of food and drinks. He sets them down on the table beside my bed. Thankfully they detached most of the wires from my body, save for the oximeter and the IV--I'm still pretty weak--so I'm free to move a little more than I was three days ago. Cam tells me that I might be able to go home by the end of the week, so long as I continue building my strength like I am. 

Little does he know that I'm going home in two days, not four like he wants. I know he wants me here a little longer to keep an eye on me, but I can't wait. I have things I need to do. 

A small part of me feels guilty that I'm trying to get out of here so quickly. This was my life. These are my closest friends. I spent 28 years of my life in this time building myself up to be who I wanted to be, and I achieved it.

But now I found something more that I know if I don't get it back I'll be lost for the rest of my life. 

And I'm nothing if not a go-getter. 

"Tuberculosis?" Cam questions, glancing at my search page. I lock the iPad and put it to the side to bring the plate he brought me closer. "Why are you looking up tuberculosis?"

"Thought I'd brush up on my diseases. You never know when someone might walk through the doors with one of these."

Cam studies me for a few seconds, obviously not buying my excuse. "Is this because of that cowboy?"

He's not judging me, he's just honestly curious. So I nod, telling him the truth. He picks at his food for a few seconds in thought, contemplating his next words. 

"I've never seen you so...obsessed? I don't know if that's the word I really want to use there, it doesn't sound nice." 

I shrug. To him it probably does look like an obsession. To me it's more than that. But he doesn't know--he'll never know. He'll never understand. It's the same as when I tried to tell Arthur that I was from the future. I can't tell Cam that I traveled back in time, nevertheless into a video game. I'll be locked up in the psych ward and I'll never get back. 

Cam and I make conversation while he spends his lunch break with me. Once he's gone I go back to looking up cures and continuing my plan. There's a greater chance that it won't work than the chance that it does, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. It's the only idea I have. 

* * *

Two days later and I'm finally back in some civilian clothes rather than a hospital gown. I was right that Cam didn't want to dismiss me, but I convinced Dr. Gonzalez and I had a long talk where I reassured her I wouldn't stress myself too much and would continue to rest while furthering my recovery. 

Cam glowers in the corner, frowning at me as I pack up my few belongings that were deposited here at the hospital for me to use. I can feel his stare on my every movement and the unease in his stance. 

"Please relax," I sigh, straightening and looking at him over my shoulder, "I'm just going home, not on a backpack trip across Europe."

Cam sighs, his features sinking. "I'm just worried. It's too soon."

Making sure to turn my bag away from his view I walk over and wrap my arms around him, feeling him instantly reciprocate. 

"It's not too soon. Me being in the hospital is going to do nothing but give me more bills. There's nothing more that you can do for me. It's all on me now."

Cam huffs but doesn't say anything. He squeezes one last time before walking over to the door and opening it. "I called you a cab. If you would've waited one more day then I could've driven you home--"

I hold up a hand. "Cam, I'm fine. I'm a big girl who can manage a cab by herself."

"I know. Just, be safe? Okay?"

_"You be safe, Mrs. Morgan."_

I blink away the sudden memory, my throat constricting as I hear Arthur's voice echo perfectly through my head.

I look at Cam with determination. "I'll be just fine. Thank you for everything, Cam. You're the best pain in my ass I've ever had."

Cam smiles at that, rolling his eyes. "Love you too, Lily." And with that he shuts the door behind him. 

I walk back over to the bed and pick up my bag. It's a good thing he didn't look inside, otherwise he would have seen the medical supplies I swiped from the laboratory, along with some clean needles, some bottles of Isoniazid peroxide, and about eight boxes of the Isoniazid tablets. Each box has 100 tablets, so God help me, I hope nobody looks too closely at where I wrote the prescription for this and signed my name on it. All of it is covered with the get well soon cards I received, along with some toiletries. 

I exit my room and walk down the hall, waving goodbye and nodding at the staff that I pass. All of them familiar faces that feels like I haven't seen in forever but in reality hasn't actually been that long. 

It's...bittersweet. I signed my papers an hour ago that legally stated I was leaving of my own free will. Nothing that happens once I step outside these doors will be held against them. 

And as I walk out into the sunlight for the first time in almost a week, I just have to hope and pray that they don't hate me for leaving them again.

I look over my shoulder one last time, taking in every detail that I can. 

_Goodbye._

* * *

Unlocking the door to my apartment for the first time in--a month? Four months?--makes me feel like an intruder in my own home. Everything is where I last left it, with only a few things out of place. Most likely from when they found me here and had to transport me to the hospital. 

I walk into my room and set the bag down carefully on my bed, being cautious with the precious cargo inside. I go into my closet and put on some of  _my_ clothes, almost groaning at how nice a simple pair of bra and underwear from this time feels. I put on some skinny jeans and a comfortable blouse. Before I forget about it I lace up a pair of sneakers. It feels weird to be wearing them inside the apartment, but it's necessary. I pull a duffel bag out of my closet, wrapping all the medical supplies in protective paper before carefully storing it in the duffel. I add in some more jeans, shirts, along with bras and underwear. I'm going to be prepared this time. 

I pause, the picture on my nightstand catching my eye. It was taken the last time I was together with my family, out on a camping trip in Wyoming. That had to have been at least five years ago. Mom had just bought a new camera with a timer and stand so that we could all be in the picture. We're all smiling and Dad, Lee, and I are standing in the back since we're taller than Mom and Lucy. Lucy made a comment about the smell being off and Lee had responded that she was used to the smell of cow shit so of course it was off to her. The photo was taken just as we all broke out in laughter. 

The photo next to that one is of Cam and I in full medical garb, stretched out on the floor of the OR, his head on my lap while I lean with my back against the wall and doze. I'll never forget that day. We removed a bullet from a man who had been shot in the head. It took over 15 hours before everything was said and done, but he survived. It was worth it. 

Almost as if reassuring me, I look to my left hand where Arthur's ring is still sitting. A reminder of why I'm going back. It's all I need. 

I make a quick decision and toss the photos in the duffel as well. The bag is pretty well full at this point. I don't really think anything else would be vital, there's not much I can do out there technology-wise. 

I leave my bag in my room and take a deep breath. This is it. If this works then I was right. If it doesn't work...I don't know what I'll do. I'm going to try to go back the same way that I ended up there in the first place. 

I go out to my living room and pick up my controller, turning my console back on. I'm surprised the controller is still charged but I'm not going to jinx anything. It takes a few minutes for it to warm up, but once it does I hold my breath and open Red Dead Redemption 2. 

A few seconds pass. 

A few more. 

The logo pops up. The shotgun fire and the main menu loads. With a shaky hand I press the story button and wait. 

Nothing happens. 

I frown, trying to remember if this is what happened last time. I'm about to press the button again when the TV screen suddenly turns white, a loud humming coming from the speakers. 

My eyes widen and my heart races as realization hits me. It's working. It's working!

The power suddenly goes out in my apartment, but since it's still daylight outside I can see just fine without a flashlight. I stand up quickly and go into my bedroom, crawling on top of the bed and grabbing the duffel bag, holding it tightly to my chest as I lay back on the mattress and close my eyes. If I was taken back in time with the clothes that I was wearing last time, then maybe if I have a hold on the bag it will come with me. I can only hope. My heart is racing at a million miles a minute in my chest as I wait for something to happen. Last time I fell asleep and woke up there, but I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to fall asleep right now. My adrenaline is too high. 

And then suddenly, my body is heavier than a brick in the ocean and it's impossible for me to even think of opening my eyes. I send one quick prayer up to whoever's listening that this works. 

* * *

When I next open my eyes I'm nearly blinded by the sun that's shining in the sky above me. I groan and lift a hand, shielding my gaze from the bright rays. 

_Wait...sun?_  

I sit up quickly, looking around and finding that I'm not inside of my apartment anymore, but instead am outside in the middle of a field. 

Only, it's not just any field. 

I let out a cry of relief when I see that the duffel bag did indeed stick with me. I'm also still in my clothing from my time. I scramble to my feet, looking around just to make sure that I'm not crazy and I am actually back in 1899. I take in the familiar field where Arthur gave me the horse riding lessons, where he and I would go to just escape, where he took me on our first date, where he  _proposed_ to me. 

I'm back at Clemens Point.

A choked sob escapes me and I cover my mouth with one hand, tears of absolute disbelief running down the sides of my face. 

_I can't believe I did it._

I pause when something new catches my eye. Over by the tree that Arthur and I lounged under is what appears to be two planks of wood nailed together in the form of a cross. I wipe my eyes so that my vision clears and walk closer, curious as to what it's here for. 

I immediately stumble backwards over my own feet, falling to my ass on the harsh ground once I make out the words carved into the wood. I take big, gasps of air and try to process what it is I'm reading. 

_Lily Edwards_

_1870 - 1899_

_My Heart_

_My Soul_

_My Love_

I look down at the ground in front of the cross, too many thoughts at once racing through my brain. This is a burial site for me. But there's no sign of any upturned ground here, no indication that my body is buried beneath this dirt. Am I actually there? Is another copy of my body six feet underground right now? This thought process begins to hurt my brain so I focus on something else. 

The fact that it was obviously Arthur who put this here. He and I are the only ones who knew about this spot, and nobody else that I know from this time would put those sentiments beneath my grave. 

_My grave_. Holy fuck. Everybody thinks I'm dead. I mean, I guess I did die. I was shot by that ass Agent Milton in front of the others. I noticed that it's mentioned later on that they went back and got Hosea and Lenny's bodies to bury them, but did they go back for mine? Was I even there, or did my body just disappear once I was dead? 

I don't know which one I prefer. 

And thinking about how Arthur came out here to put this cross down for me breaks my heart so much that it physically aches. 

But wait...if Arthur came out and put this cross down then this must mean that they're back from Guam. In the videos I watched I know that after the shootout at the bank happened they had to board a boat and ended up in Guam. They were there for at least  _two weeks_ , though. How much time has passed since I've been gone?

Three months here was about a month in present time. I frown, trying to work through this math. Does that mean that the week I spent in 2019 was the equivalent of a month here? 

_A month??_

Oh, God. I've been gone for so long. I can only imagine how the others have been during this time, how  _Arthur_ has been. I may have saved Hosea, but Lenny could still be dead and who knows if my sacrifice even made a difference to how things in the game progress. I need to find them. And fast. I glance down at the grave.

A rustle in the bushes to the side catches my attention. I look over to see a very familiar white head emerge, followed by the rest of the body. 

I gasp, taking a step closer. "Bishop?"

My horse pauses in her steps, turning her head in my direction and cocking her ears towards me. I take another slow step forward, but she doesn't spook. Not like she did the first time I met her. I carefully make the rest of the short walk over to her, not wanting to chance spooking her. She just calmly watches me, her nostrils flaring and ears flickering back and forth as she takes in every detail. 

I lift a shaky hand and gently trace down her neck, moving to her head and softly scratching her face. She dips her head down so that I have easier access and I can't stop the short laugh from escaping me. I knew that Kieran was working with her, but I didn't know he made  _this_ much progress. 

"What are you doing here, huh?" I question softly, as if I was actually expecting a response. She neighs lowly, as if talking back to me. 

Why is she here? Wouldn't they have kept her, or sold her? She's an Arabian--I'm sure she would have brought in a pretty penny. 

I'm not going to question my good fortune--at least not yet. I'll ask them about it when I get back.

She's not wearing a bridle or anything, which leads me to believe that they set her free. I walk back over and pick up my duffel, looking back every few steps to make sure she hasn't run off. To my surprise she actually follows me and watches with expectant eyes, like she  _knows_ that I'm going to need her. 

I sling the strap across my waist and look around, trying to see if there's anything I can use to climb onto her back. She's a little tall and there's no saddle so I'm going to have to ride bareback. Plus I have the bag of medicine I need to be careful with, otherwise I would have just run and thrown myself on. 

I spot a tree trunk off to the side and walk over, watching in disbelief as she follows me yet again and waits. When I find Kieran I'm going to give him a big kiss on the cheek. And then slap him for ditching my horse. 

I place my hands gently on her back, watching carefully. I don't want this to be like the last time I tried to ride her bareback in the mountains and she kicked me off. If I can ride her then I'll be able to find the others a lot easier. I don't have any weapons or anything to protect me so having her will be a big advantage. 

I slowly put my weight on her back and begin to ease myself up. Her ears flick back and she turns her head to the side so she can watch me, but other than that she makes no protest to the movements. Once I'm seated and have my legs situated I swing the duffel forward and put it in front of me, making sure it won't fall off. I grab two handfuls of her mane and lightly kick her sides, urging her forward. She snorts, but listens and soon we're walking back down the path that Arthur and I used to take on Winston all the time to come here. 

I cast one last look over my shoulder at the image of the slowly receding grave. It both urges me on and brings a wave of sadness. I'm going back to Arthur. I'm going to find him and make everything right, and nothing is going to stop me. 

I kick Bishop's sides once more and we take off at a canter, stirring up a dust cloud behind us. 

_I'm on my way, Arthur_. 

 

 

 


	48. Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you've all been waiting for...
> 
> Not as much hoopla as I originally wanted but this chapter is 10 pages long soooooo
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!!! <33333

I instantly head for Shady Belle. I don't know how much time exactly has passed since I've...gone...but it's been long enough for Arthur and them to go to Guarma and back if Arthur already made a grave marker for me. Just thinking about that sends a shiver down my spine. Knowing that these people have already buried and mourned me...it's going to be quite the shock when I show up back in their lives. 

I remember that when Arthur comes back from Guarma and goes to Shady Belle nobody is there. I don't really remember where exactly it is that they went to so I'm going to have to look around and hope I can find an idea as to where it is they went. 

I'm guessing that I arrived back sometime in the afternoon because by the time I make it to Shady Belle on Bishop the sun has disappeared for about three hours. The last time Arthur and I traveled from Shady Belle to Clemens Point we took the train so it went a lot faster, but I don't have any money on me or any weapons, and with my clothing I'm sure to drag some unwanted attention. I'm exhausted by the time the tall house comes into view and I can feel Bishop getting restless beneath me, poor horse probably no used to being ridden for such long periods at a time. But she's been good--hasn't spooked or kicked me off yet so I'm going to remain optimistic. 

I slow Bishop down and we walk down the familiar muddy path, no sign of any other living person in sight. There are abandoned camp spots from the gang that have been ransacked and haphazardly gone through. I dismount near the front of the house, and after making a quick decision I lead Bishop up the steps with me and inside. I can't guarantee that she won't run off in the middle of the night so I'm going to bring her in with me where I know she'll at least be in the same vicinity. Her hooves are loud on the old wood, but compared to the silence that seems to want to hang around it's a welcome distraction. 

While she goes off into the living room to sniff around I head upstairs and to the bedrooms, looking for anything. Inside of Abigail and John's room are a few suitcases thrown here and there, with one of Jack's books lying abandoned on the floor. I scoop it up and hold it close, making a mental note to return it to the boy. Dutch and Molly's room isn't much different, muddy footprints scattered everywhere with a few of Dutch's shirts discarded on the bed. When she was packing Molly must have made her clothing a priority over his. 

I go back into the hallway and take a deep breath, bracing myself for the final room. My heart beats fast in my chest as I push open the door to the room that I shared with Arthur, bracing myself for the worst. 

Only...there's nothing there. A couple blankets are left behind, along with some stray bullets and cigarette boxes, but everything else is gone. Almost like it was wiped clean. I wonder if the others packed up Arthur's room for him when he and the other men disappeared, or if Arthur himself cleared it out when he got back from Guarma. Either way, any person who saw this room wouldn't think anyone had ever lived in it. 

I shut the door behind me and go back downstairs, going into the living room where Bishop is currently scratching her neck on the edge of one of the cabinets.

On the table in the next room a piece of paper catches my eye. I walk over to it slowly, almost expecting it to jump and run away. Out of all the disarray in this house, this is the only purposefully placed thing. Obviously meant for someone to find. 

I pick it up, noting the quick yet elegant cursive scrawled on it. 

_ Dear Uncle Tacitus, _

Tacitus? That's another one of the gang's aliases, isn't it?

_ I do so hope you enjoyed your vacation. Lucky you! Leaving like that. And you always suggested you were too old for travel. I hope you and your cousins enjoyed yourselves. Me and your grand nieces have decided to take a trip of our own as the place has become so dreary and godforsaken in your absence. We have gone to visit relatives (from my Daddy's side. You are not yet acquainted with them) in Lakay, a small village just north of Saint Denis. _

_ It's buggy and muggy but apparently neither is too bad at this time of year. please come see us when you can.  _

_ Yours sincerely,  _

_ Caroline _

This is it! This is the letter they left behind to tell the others where they are. That means in order to find the rest of them I'm going to have to head to Lakay. I just hope they'll still be there when I get there. 

I pick up one of the blankets that someone must have dropped in their rush to get out of here and wrap it around my shoulders, exhausted and ready to sleep for the night. In the morning I can go through everything more thoroughly and see what supplies I can take with us. Maybe it will make the rest of my journey better. I glance up the stairs for a moment, contemplating sleeping in my old bed, but decide against it knowing that it'll only make me feel more homesick than I already am. I just want to be back in my cowboy's arms. 

I curl up on the floor, my bag with the medicine in it safely on the counter in the kitchen. Bishop snorts softly, shaking her mane and watching me for a few moments as I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

* * *

 

In the morning I'm able to find an extra halter, but no reins. I improvise by taking some string from an old hay bale and looping it through the holes. Bishop does protest a little to this restriction but doesn't bite me and quickly calms down. I eat an old can of biscuits for breakfast, making sure to find some water and feed for Bishop as well before we get ready to head out. I store some other cans of food in my duffel and fill a canteen with water before mounting up once more and taking off towards Saint Denis. 

I'm not exactly sure where Lakay is, so at some point I'm going to have to stop and ask for directions. In the letter it said it was north of Saint Denis and that's all the information I have to go off of. I'm wary of actually going into town because with the amount of people and Pinkertons that are there I'm sure to be singled out for my dress, or worse, recognized as being a member of the Van Der Linde gang. Neither of those are ideal situations so what should have taken me less than an hour to get to Saint Denis turns into two, and then three. Having to go around the back and avoid every passing man or woman on horse and buggy makes for a long and nerve-wracking ride. Bishop must sense my unease because her ears continue flickering back to me every so often, as though checking to make sure I'm actually okay and not going to freak out. 

I pass a small cabin just on the outside of town, and it looks like there's somebody home so I slow down and climb off Bishop's back, carefully making my way up the porch to the door. I take a breath and prepare myself for whoever it is might be on the other side of this door. 

I knock and wait, hearing the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. It opens slowly, just a couple inches, and I see some of the face of an older woman appear. I give her a weak and reassuring smile, stepping back slightly to make her feel more secure. 

"Hi, I was just wondering--"

"I ain't buyin' nothin'." She snarls, her features pulling down quickly. Her sudden outburst catches me off guard but I quickly shake my head. 

"I'm not selling anything. I was just wondering if you could give me some directions?"

Her eyes narrow as she studies me, looking from head to toe. I can almost hear her judging me in her mind. "To where?"

"Lakay?" I say almost too quickly, too urgently. She pulls the door open another few inches so I can see a little more of her face. "It's north of Saint Denis, right?"

She nods slowly, opening the door the rest of the way and pointing down the road. With a harsh swallow I make note of the shotgun that's clenched tightly in her other hand. "Down that way about four miles. There'll be a bridge on your right and then the community just past them tall trees is Lakay. Can't miss it."

I smile shakily and start walking back down the steps. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

I'm almost to Bishop, more than ready to get out of here, when she speaks up again. "Lady!"

I turn around, eyes wide and heart beating fast, ready for that gun to be pointed in my face. She stares down at me, the weapon held comfortably in her hands. "Be careful out there--there's some rough folks in that part."

I give her a tight lipped smile and nod once more. This time I don't hesitate in throwing myself on Bishop's back and spurring her out of there. I don't look back, afraid of finding the woman standing in the middle of the path with her gun aimed in my direction. She gives me the creeps. 

The sun is just beginning to sink into the mountains and exhaustion is starting to set in when I finally smell the tell-tale swamps. The sounds of frogs and bugs in the water echo through the trees, bringing a very nostalgic memory of camping with my family when I was younger with it. There are wooden houses clumped together quite tightly down the stretch of mud and dirt lying before me. I slide off Bishop, keeping a close hold on my belongings in case someone decides to try anything, and lead her along by gripping the halter. She follows along silently, at ease in this muggy and hot place. Even though it's getting to the end of August, it seems like the Fall season isn't anywhere on the roster for Lakay. 

As I stop a few feet from the steps of an older shack, a sudden thought enters my mind.  _ What if they're not here anymore? They go to another camp--somewhere farther north. It'll take me days to find them there, especially if I have no map. _

"Sweetie?" A gentle voice pulls me out of my despairing thoughts. I look up the steps of the shack to see an older woman sitting in a rocking chair, some type of cloth sitting in her lap. She looks at me carefully, eyes slowly taking in my clothing. "You need help with somethin'?"

The accent reminds me of someone from Arkansas, though I'm pretty sure we're not that far south. I release my grip on Bishop and walk up the steps, getting closer so I don't have to shout to talk to her. 

"Yeah...I'm trying to find some friends of mine? I was told that I would find them here."  _ I hope, anyways. _

"Who is they?"

"Um, around thirteenish of them...a few women, majority of them men? Some young, some old."

She crinkles her nose. "There an Irish among 'em?"

My eyes widen. "Yes! Yes, there is!"

She nods her head farther down the path, a frown on her face. "They're down that way. Awfully noisy bunch, they is. Ever since more of those men came back there's been more shootin' 'nd hollerin' goin' on than ever before."

I'm too excited about being close to them to really be worried about the fact she said there was shootings. With a quick thank you and goodbye I jump down the steps and race over to Bishop, mounting her once more and holding my duffel in front of me as I urge her forwards. As if she knows that we're close to something important she puts a little more energy into her steps, though I know she has to be more tired than I am. 

The houses start to thin out until they're spaced farther and farther apart until finally I see one at the end of the trail, a couple of lone candles burning in the windows of a large but dilapidated one-story house. There are also some stray tents set up around it, and with bated breath I squint to make out the horses I see hitched outside. 

The Count. Taima. Silver Dollar. So many more.

It would be hard to mistake these animals as anything other than the property of the Van Der Linde gang themselves. Especially Dutch's horse--it's hard to miss a white horse like that. 

I slow Bishop as I ride in, noticing with slight confusion as I don't see anyone on watch. Maybe in a community like Lakay they don't have to worry about being ambushed like before? I dismount Bishop and let her go over to the other horses, trotting off happily and whinnying as if saying hello. Off to the side a certain brown and white horse catches my eye and I gasp before moving quickly over to Chewie's side where he's currently grazing on some leftover hay. 

"Chewie!" I say. His head lifts in my direction, his mouth pausing and his ears flickering forwards towards my voice. I walk to his side and throw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his mane and almost sobbing with relief. 

_ I found them. _

"Who's there?" 

I push myself away from my horse, looking in the direction of the house to see a figure heading in my direction. Once they get closer to some light I'm able to see that it's Mary-Beth walking towards me, a knife held tightly in her hand and a scowl on her face. She's ready for a fight if need be. 

"Mary-Beth," I say quietly, my voice shaking. She falters in her step, straightening and squinting her eyes to better look at me. 

"Who...?" She trails off, stopping a few feet away. After a few seconds her eyes widen and the knife falls from her hand to the ground below.  _ "Lily? _ Is-is that you?"

Her voice is light and airy, as though she can't believe what she's saying. I nod my head, afraid that if I open my mouth that no words will actually come out and instead I'll just start crying. 

"O-oh my--" she gasps, and then her eyes roll up into her head and she collapses to the ground alongside the knife. I rush to her side, not expecting her to pass out at the sight of me. 

"Mary-Beth!" I shout, grasping her shoulder and pressing my fingers to her neck. There's still a pulse, erratic and fast as it may be. 

"Mary-Beth!" A deeper voice shouts as the door to the house is kicked open harshly. Light from inside the house streams into the night, making it easier for me to see everything. Kieran holds a rifle in his hands, pointing it out into the night in our direction. 

"Kieran!" I cry, gaining his attention. "Boy, you're a sight for sore eyes."

His hold on the gun wavers before slowly lowering it. "Who's there?" 

Charles steps outside with Kieran, followed by John and Bill. In the background I can see Tilly and Karen curiously peeking around the door frame to get a look at who's disturbed their peace. 

When they get closer Bill lifts his gun this time, scowling at us as the four of them approach us carefully. Kieran's face falls once he catches sight of Mary-Beth lying on the ground, unconscious. 

"Mary-Beth--!"

"She's fine," I manage to choke out a laugh with my words, "just caught her off guard is all."

There's a stretch of silence, this one seeming to last forever where in reality it probably only was about ten seconds.

Charles is the first one to break it. He takes a cautious step forward, bending down on one knee until he's eye level with me on the ground and can look at me properly. 

"Lily?"

"Huh?" Bill sputters, looking at Charles like he's grown a second head. 

"Hi Charles." I say quietly.

Kieran forgoes the caution he was previously exhibiting around me in favor of getting closer to Mary-Beth so that he can check on her. Once he's on her other side I let him take her from me. He looks up at me, his mouth falling open in shock. 

"How--"

"Gentlemen!" The familiar authoritative tone of Dutch Van Der Linde floats over our heads, and I find that it's like music to my ears. I push myself to my feet as he approaches us, what looks like the rest of the gang not far behind. "What seems to be the problem he--" He cuts himself off, freezing in the spot as he looks at me. 

"Dutch," I smile at him, waiting for everyone's response. "Nice to see you again."

He reaches up slowly, his hand pulling his hat off and clutching it to his chest like an anchor. He clears his throat, an unknown emotion listed on his face. "Is that you, Lily Edwards?"

I hold my hands out. "The one and only."

"But..." he shakes his head, "you were shot. We thought you...you  _ died." _

My mind briefly flashes back to that day. To the echoing gunshot, to the blood running through my fingers, to the feeling of slipping away beneath the Earth. I plaster on a tight smile and think quickly on my feet, hoping they believe me. 

"I didn't. After you all left the town doctor found my body and patched me up. I've been healing and just now got well enough to come find all of you."

"Prove it," Bill cuts in, breaking the moment, "prove that you're who you say you are."

I pause, not expecting this. I figured they would see me and just accept it, but for once Bill is being smart about it. I think back real hard, trying to come up with something that might make them believe that it's really me. 

"I was cold at the governor's party," I say slowly, looking at Bill, "and you gave me your jacket without a word. It's the nicest thing you've ever done for me, Bill."

Bill blanches, his gun lowering until it's pointed at the ground. "It is you." He says breathlessly.

Dutch walks towards me, shaking his head in bewilderment. I'm surprised when he grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me tightly and hugging me close. I return it, reveling in his strong embrace and the familiarity he brings with him. 

"We missed you... _ so _ much." He breathes quietly, as if he's admitting to something that he only wants me to hear. "It's good to have you back home, with the family."

His words bring tears to my eyes, but before I can respond he's pulling back and smiling down at me with watery eyes. He claps me once more on the back before stepping off to the side, allowing the others a chance to say hello.

There's a scream and then two figures are running towards me, wrapping their arms around me and nearly knocking me to the ground in the process. Tilly and Karen have me squished between them before I even have a chance to say anything more, Tilly crying into my shoulder as Karen tries her best to put on a strong face. But even in the low lighting I can make out the shine in her eyes. Once they're gone Charles steps forward, pulling me in for a massive bear hug and almost crushing me in the process. John goes next, the strong and unemotional man choked up. It continues on like this, most people stepping forward to hug me and welcome me back. Jack flies out of his mothers arms and to my side, attaching himself to my leg like a leech while Abigail hugs me close and cries, apologizing for leaving me in Saint Denis. I reassure her that I would have been more upset if she had been captured because of me.

When Hosea comes up and gives me a hug I can't help but also shed a few tears when the older man thanks me for saving his life. I tell him that I would do it all again if I had to. Susan breaks her normal icy exterior and pulls me close, telling me that it was near unbearable working with the people in the camp without me there. Sadie pulls me in for a tight embrace, and even though she doesn't say many words I can tell that she was upset by my loss in the camp as well. Javier smirks at me and doesn't hesitate in picking me up and swinging me around until I start to laugh. He sets me down and I look over to see that the other people in camp are watching us with smiles on their faces. A happy time for everyone, right now. Even Bill gave me a hug, short-lived as it may have been. 

Kylie is flabbergasted by the time I get to her. She watched me go around in silence, her eyes following my every move. By the time I get to her I can tell that she has a million questions running through her head, but for the moment I ignore all of them and simply hug her close and accept her comfort. 

"Holy  _ fuck _ it's good to see you again," she breathes, "I didn't realize how important you were to everyone here in camp until you were gone."

"I did die, Kylie." I breathe quietly, so only the two of us can hear. She freezes, her arms tightening around me. "But I came back. I'll tell you about it later."

"You better." She accentuates her words with a tight squeeze around my midsection, her voice choking up. When I pull back I can see the pity lying under the surface she feels for me, along with a hint of what I'm guessing is horror. Horror at what I must have gone through, what I must have done to get back to. That's a dark conversation though and right now I just want to be happy for a little bit, so I don't say anything more on the matter. 

I turn back to face everyone, wiping my eyes. I look over at Kieran, to where he's now helping Mary-Beth stand to her feet. "Thank you for taking care of my animals, Kieran. Without you I wouldn't have been able to make it here."

He blushes and nods before looking over at Mary-Beth, but I do see the slight smile that threatens to overcome his face. 

"Yeah, yeah," a certain voice that I have  _ not _ been missing shatters the warm glow that had been wrapped around everyone. "You really expect us to believe what you're sayin', Princess?"

I look back over my shoulder to where Micah is leaning in the doorway of the house, watching all of us with boredom. "What are you insinuating, cow piss?"

Micah pushes off the door with a snarl at that, stalking over to me. Dutch steps in front of him before he can get too close, holding his hands up. 

"Not tonight, Micah." Dutch says lowly, his voice strong and threatening. "We're damn lucky to have Miss Edwards back--you're not going to fight with her. Not anymore. Understand?"

Micah growls to himself, staring at Dutch. He casts one dirty look at me over the older man's shoulder before turning on his heel and stalking off to the side of the house. This whole exchange just reminds me of the information I learned while I was in the hospital. That  _ Micah _ is the rat of the group. It's mighty tempting to take a gun and just shoot him in the back of the head right now, but with the shock of me coming back after they all thought I was dead I can be patient enough to wait for that to happen--which it will. 

For now I need to find Arthur. 

"Where is he?" I ask Dutch, not even needing to say his name. Some of the smiles fall off the faces of the people in the group and they share nervous glances. Dutch's face tightens and he sighs, his shoulders sagging somewhat. 

"He's not doing so well," Hosea tells me quietly. I knew that this was going to happen. I knew that Arthur's health was going to start to decline. That doesn't mean that it makes it any easier for me to hear someone actually say to me that he's dying. 

"He usually hangs around the dock at this time, near the back of the house at the swamp." Sadie offers, jutting her chin out in the direction I need to go. "Just be delicate with him."

"Delicate?" Bill scoffs, rolling his eyes. "What is he? A girl?"

"No, he's Arthur." I say back, raising a brow at Bill. "And he's about to find out that his fiance that he thought was dead is in fact very much alive." 

That shuts Bill up rather quickly. His jaw snaps shut and he looks off to the side away from my gaze, almost ashamed of himself. I grab my duffel bag, praying that all of my medicine is still safely packed away inside before giving everyone a tight smile and walking towards the dock. My feet echo loudly on the old and rotted wood, making me fear with every step that it's going to break beneath my weight and send me into the water below. I follow the planks around the corner and set my duffel on a bench alongside the house, far away from any danger. Then I look out towards the end of the dock and pause. 

And I see him. 

His back is to me, weight placed on one cocked hip and one hand loosely gripping his ammunition belt around his waist. Even from this distance I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way that even though he may look like he's relaxed, he's wound tighter than a rattlesnake and ready to strike. A puff of smoke appears in front of him and his other hand falls, showing me the burning end of a cigarette. Even though I'm filled with happiness beyond all reason at seeing him again, I can't help the automatic nose curl at the sight of a cigarette. 

I walk up to him slowly, wanting to approach this carefully. I'm afraid that the closer I get the easier it's going to be for him to hear the pounding of my heart even beyond all the wildlife sounds. He sighs when I'm less than ten feet away, raising his hand and taking another puff from his cancer stick. 

"Told you I ain't hungry, Hosea."

His voice makes my heart flutter and beat so fast that I'm afraid that I'm going to die from cardiac arrest--which would suck considering I just got back to him. But again, even though I'm happy to hear him talk I can't help but note that he sounds tired, sad...like he's given up on everything. 

I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders, my fingers unconsciously moving over so they run across the engagement ring he gave me just a week ago. A month ago? It feels like it was forever since he proposed to me. 

"And I thought I told you I don't like cigarettes?"

I wait with bated breath as he registers my words. His entire body freezes, the hand with the burning cigarette suspended mid-lift. I take a cautious step forward, then another as more time without a single word being said goes by. 

"Arthur?"

_ "Not again," _ he whispers harshly, almost to himself. He flicks the cigarette out into the swamp water and instead uses that hand to run it over his face with another sigh. "She ain't real, Arthur. Get your head together."

_Not_ _real?_ Does he think I'm a hallucination or something? And did he say _not again?_

"Arthur," I say again, a little more urgently, "it's me. It's Lily." 

"Get out of my head." He says dismissively, his voice breaking on the last word. My heart breaks. I walk towards him some more until I'm within touching distance.

"Arthur, please." I plead with him. "Turn around. Look at me."

He hesitates, at first fighting with himself to listen to what I'm saying. Then he finally caves, his body hunching in on itself like he's preparing himself for disappointment once more. He turns achingly slowly, and it feels like it's forever until I can finally look him in the eye. 

Those beautiful blue eyes of his widen once he sees me standing there, and he seems to straighten up once more. His eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline as he takes a step back in surprise, one hand clutching his chest. 

"You ain't never been there in person before."

I step forward to make up for the lost space and gently place my hand on top of his own, watching his eyes dart down at the contact. "I am now."

His eyes flicker back up to mine as I slide my hand up to cup his cheek, watching as the realization comes forward. Once he seems to understand that I'm actually there and not some hallucination he steps forward into my space urgently, one hand grabbing my waist while the other lays itself on top of my hand on his cheek. 

"Lily?"

I nod, tears streaming down my cheeks. 

"Lily!" He cries, dropping down to his knees with a harsh thud on the dock, the wood making a very scary sound at the sudden assault. He presses his face into my chest and wraps his arms around my waist, shoulders shaking as he cries. With every sound that escapes his lips I find my heart breaking more and more. The pain that this man felt because I was gone both makes me feel more loved than I ever did and also makes me hate myself for even existing in the first place. I cry along with him, curling my body over top of his in an embrace and just holding on tight, as if I would lose him should I let go. 

And the scary thing is, I  _ did _ lose him. But I got him back, and I'm not going to lose him again. 

I sink down alongside him, allowing him to pull me against his chest as I reach up to cup his face. I'm about to kiss him when he suddenly rears back, turning his face to the side. 

I open my eyes and see his own red ones from crying, the utter agony on his face. I frown, trying to pull him closer to me but he resists and I make a frustrated noise because  _ dammit _ I want to kiss my man. 

"I'm real sick, Darlin'." That southern drawl with that loving name makes my heart flutter, but then the words make it sink almost immediately. "You shouldn't...you shouldn't be around me."

"Arthur," I say calmly, "do you trust me?"

Arthur's face hardens. "I trust you more than I trust myself."

I smile. "Good." Then I tighten my hold and tug him forward again, successfully planting my lips on his this time. He resists at first, but after the first swipe of my tongue across his lips he's groaning like a starved man and opening for me. I curl my hands around the back of his neck and hold him in place while his hands fist in my blouse, stretching the fabric. When I finally pull back to let him have some air I smile triumphantly down at him. 

"I know you're sick, Arthur."

He gives me a confused look. "Ya do?"

I nod. "With Tuberculosis."

His hands loosen their hold and his mouth thins. 

"But I came back with more than just myself--I have medicine."

Arthur shakes his head grimly. "I already asked, Darlin', and I appreciate it, but Doc told me that there ain't no cure--"

I place my hand gently over his mouth. "Arthur,  _ I _ have a  _ cure _ . That doctor doesn't know the magic I can perform."

Arthur's eyes widen. "You have a cure?"

I nod, and his face slowly splits into a smile. He leans forward and kisses me again, this time worry-free of giving me TB. 

There's no way I'm letting my man die if I can do anything about it. 


	49. Check-Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHH I'M SO SORRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
> 
> My family who lives a few states away finally left and I've been preparing for my third year of college (which starts tomorrow, plz kill me) so I haven't had as much time this past month as I originally wished to have. Thank you to all of you who have been so patient and understanding during this time though, you're the best. 
> 
> I'm curious: do you have anything you'd like to see before Arthur and Lily's story ends? A particular mission or a scene you'd like to see play out? I have an idea as to how I want this story to end but any inspiration would be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Love you all so much!

The two of us simply sit there on the dock, holding each other and calming down a little bit. My heart still races against my ribs from the adrenaline of the past twenty minutes, and I can hear Arthur's doing the same. My head is tucked under his chin close to his chest, my arms wrapped around his back while he holds me just as closely in his embrace. I shifted so that I was sitting on top of his outstretched legs to make it more comfortable for him, but even while I was twisting around he refused to let me get more than a foot away from him, his hand touching me somewhere at all times to keep that contact. 

He lets out a shaky breath, the tears that he had shed a few minutes ago clogging his throat. "Darlin'...I missed you so much.  _ So _  much."

I close my eyes, fighting back the hot tears that threaten to rise and spill once again. "I missed you too." I whisper back. 

"That day, at the bank..." His voice grows quiet and his fingers spread on my back to cover more area as he tugs me closer. "I died a thousand deaths. I should'a done something', I should'a shot that son of a bitch Milton between the eyes when I had the chance. We didn't know... _ I _  didn't know that they was gonna ambush us like that."

I nuzzle my cheek against him comfortingly, hearing his low exhale in his lungs. The rattle that was so quiet before is now much louder, loud enough that I wouldn't need a stethoscope to hear it. My eyes flicker over to my duffel for a moment, before deciding to be selfish and not get up just yet. 

"Arthur I want you to know that I don't blame you. If you or any of the others had tried to step in then I know that it would have ended with you dying as w--" I cut myself off abruptly, stopping the  _ 'as well' _  from leaving my lips before I let slip to Arthur what really happened. 

"As what?"

I shake my head. "Just, I'm glad you didn't intervene. There were more of them than you, and even though I know you guys have a great aim, you can't take them all out at once. Somebody would have died."

He presses his cheek to the top of my head. "I thought you did. I nearly jumped out that window to get you, but Marston held me back in the bank and I thought I was in my own personal hell, watching you get shot and then bleedin' out like that." I lift my head and press my lips to his throat in a gentle kiss. "But I guess someone somewhere likes me if they brought you back to me."

_ I did die, but  _ I'm _  the one who brought me back to you Arthur. I like you. _

"I'm here now, that's all that matters." I murmur, letting out a breath and relishing in his hold on me. Then I decide that it's time to stop being selfish and that I need to get him started on this medicine as soon as possible. "Why don't you show me where you're sleeping and I can give you some of my medicine."

I try to stand up but Arthur tightens his hold so that it's impossible for me to get to my feet. I laugh at his actions. "Arthur, let me up." 

He makes a sound of protest, pulling me so close against him that my face is squished into his chest. I continue to giggle and I can hear him chuckling above me. "I ain't ready to let go yet."

"Okay," I give in, also not quite ready to leave his strong embrace. I think I have to mark it down as one of the top three best things I've felt in the world. 

* * *

 

"What happened then?" 

"I don't really remember...I was out of it for a long time."

I scrunch my face up, turning my back on Abigail and Sadie as I prepare the medicine for Arthur. Everyone wants to know what happened to me while I was 'recovering', but I hate lying to them. Not being able to tell them the truth hurts, but I know that it's for the best. 

Arthur watches me carefully from where he's perched on the edge of his bedroll. There aren't many places in this house to sleep, so people have been using the floor and some hammocks. Arthur had been sleeping in a hammock as well, but now that I'm back he wants to sleep on a bedroll with me again. I don't mind, but it's not good that he's in these conditions being as sick as he is. 

"So the doc just fixed ya up, free of charge?"

I can sense the skepticism in Abigail's voice, and I don't trust myself to say something dumb so I simply nod. She purses her lips but doesn't press any further. 

"Well, it's just nice ta have another person here that annoys Micah," Sadie speaks through the tension, giving me her version of a smile, forced as it may look. Sadie doesn't show happy emotions that often, so even though this may look pained I can tell she's actually happy for me to be back. I give her a smile of my own in return. 

"Roll your sleeve up," I order Arthur gently, plunging my needle deep into the bottle and pulling out the liquid. He eyes it warily but does as I say, not complaining. Once it's high enough I move over and clean the area as best I can, giving him a quick and reassuring smile before sticking the needle into his arm. He doesn't pull away but I notice the edges of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. It's gone less than two seconds later and I wipe the needle off, hoping that maybe I can boil it later or something to keep it clean. I know needles are hard to come across, the medical kind anyways. 

"And what'll that do again?"

I pack away the medicine carefully, wrapping it so that there's no chance of anything breaking. I pop a pill out of one of the boxes and put it in my hand, grabbing the flask of water and handing both to Arthur. He gives the small white pill the same look as he did the needle. 

"It's going to make you feel better," I explain, briefly cursing myself for not grabbing some Tylenol or ibuprofen, "but you have to take that pill twice a day. I mean it. One in the morning and one at night. If you miss taking the pill even once it'll be like you never took them in the first place."

Arthur's brows pull together as he frowns down at his hand. There's only a moment's hesitation before he throws it into his mouth and swallows it harshly, handing me back the water without having taken a drink. "Tastes bitter."

I nod. "It will. But you have to take it anyway."

He sighs, leaning back against the wall and patting the area beside him on the bedroll, my cue to come to his side. "Anythin' you say, Doc."

I crawl over and scoot under his arm, feeling his familiar warmth and woodsy scent surround me. His hand curls around my waist and I hold onto it with my free hand. Kylie enters the room and gives us all a tight smile before sinking down to sit in the spot I just vacated. 

"How's everyone out there?" I ask quietly. When Arthur and I came back in some people were eager to talk to me, but others, like Pearson, Kieran, Mary-Beth, and even John were cautious about approaching me. Like their joy at my being back wore off and now they're all in shock. 

"They're fine..." Kylie trails off, briefly glancing up at Sadie. "They're just going to need some time to accept the fact that you're back."

"We went to the...well," Abigail clears her throat and looks off to the side, uncomfortable with the idea of saying whatever it is on her mind, "we went back. After we ran and got everyone away from Shady Belle, we went back to Saint Denis and looked for your, um, for you. We was gonna bury you."

Arthur's arm tenses around me. I rub the back of his knuckles soothingly until he relaxes some. "I went back to Shady Belle to look for everyone." I glance up at Arthur, briefly meeting his eye, before turning back to Abigail. "I looked around the area and couldn't find any of you, but I found Sadie's letter. I was lucky enough to find Bishop out there."

Arthur lets out a sigh. I look up at him but he shakes his head minutely.  _ Later _ , he says.

Abigail looks out into the main room and stands, brushing her skirts off. "I need to put Jack to bed. It's been a long night and he's been awake too long." She reaches one hand down and I place my own in it, feeling her squeeze tightly. "I'm glad you're back, Lily."

I smile warmly. "Me too, Abigail."

She tells the others good night and exits. 

"It's my turn to take watch," Sadie explains as she stands to her feet, "so I have to go let Charles get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow, Lily." She tips her hat at the others in goodbye and leaves as well. 

Kylie turns to me and stares me right in my eyes, and though her face is blank I can see the burning questions running through her head. I shake my head once, letting her know that I'm not going to tell her what happened right now. Arthur wants me near him and even if I asked him for a private moment with her I'm not sure he would say yes. 

And besides, I don't want to leave Arthur yet. 

"How are you and Javier doing?" I ask to fill the silence. I can see Arthur's eyelids drooping next to me and can only imagine how tired he must be. I was riding all day and I know that I could sleep for a good twelve hours from today alone, so with him being sick on top of everything else I don't want to keep him awake for very much longer. 

Kylie smiles at that, her face lighting up at the mention of the Spanish man. "He's great, Lily. Really. I'm glad you introduced us."

I laugh, shaking my head. "I did no such thing. You called him a weed."

She joins in laughing with me at that. "I called him a  _ thistle. _  There's a difference, trust me."

"Well?" I question, raising a brow. "Did he prove himself to be a thistle?"

Her mouth curves upwards slowly into a smirk. "Oh, no, he was  _ very _  correct about being a honeysuckle."

I gasp. "Kylie--!"

She holds up her hands, failing to contain her mirth. "I said nothing! You're the one with a dirty mind." Our laughter dies down and she lets out a sigh, looking at me a little more soberly than before. "I missed you, Lily."

I sink into Arthur's hold, a tight feeling growing inside me at her words. He seems to sense this and leans in closer, resting his chin on top of my head. "I missed you too."

She looks between the two of us briefly before climbing to her feet and waving at us. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Tomorrow." I promise, letting her know that I will tell her what happened tomorrow.  _ Everything. _

When we're finally alone Arthur scoots forward and away from me until he can stretch out on the bed roll. He puts his head in my lap and curls his arms around my thighs and back, closing his eyes. My hands move without even a thought and start brushing through his hair, one of them drifting to trace lightly over his back. He lets out a breath and it seems that he finally completely relaxes in our semi-privacy. 

"Missed this," he mumbles into my lap, his words muffled. "We got a lot to do tomorrow."

I don't know what all he means by that but I know he's exhausted so I just laugh softly and continue my movements. I listen to his labored breathing get slower and more spaced out until I know he's fallen asleep. His face is finally relaxed and even though his skin seems paler and around his eyes is a little more red than normal I know that he's going to be okay. This medicine is going to make him better, hopefully in no more than two months. I have my fingers crossed that by that time everything else is okay and we're safely away somewhere that we can focus on building our future. 

Because now that I'm back, Arthur is going to have a future. 

* * *

The next morning the camp is moving before Arthur and I are even out of bed. I wake up to someone taking a couple of suitcases out of the tiny corner we're sleeping in. I wish I had a watch or something so I could check the time but judging by how everyone but the two of us seem to be up I'm guessing it's sometime late in the morning. 

I roll over and take out the pills for Arthur, gently nudging him awake. He opens his eyes and stares up at me, letting out a deep breath. 

"It wasn't a dream," he mutters under his breath. I give him a soft smile. 

"No, it wasn't. I'm still here." I reach over and take the flask of water that's sitting to the side. "Take these pills."

He sits up with a groan, his features pulling together into a frown. "You was serious 'bout takin' this medicine all the time?"

I nod solemnly as he downs the pills, once again forgoing the water. "You can't miss a dose, Arthur. Please don't forget about it."

He clears his throat, lifting a fist to his mouth as a terrible cough rips through him. I rub his back as he fights through it. "I'll do my best, Darlin'."

"That's all I ask," I tell him. I push to my feet and pack the medicine back into my bag. "What's going on today?"

"We're headin' out." He sighs, running a hand over his face. His skin is still too pale and the red splotches worry me, but I know in a week it'll start looking better. "We can't stay here no more. Pinkertons found us a while back. We should've left a while ago, but didn't."

He glances off to the side when he finishes speaking and I feel both relieved and confused. On the one hand if they had left then my chances of finding them would've been slim to none, but on the other what kept them here so long? It isn't like Dutch to stay in a spot where the law knows where they're at. 

"Why didn't you?"

He pauses before looking up at me, his face pained. I know before he answers me what the reasoning is. 

"It's been...difficult, since that day." He swallows harshly, looking down at his lap where his fingers are threaded together. "I buried you. Or, well, made a grave for ya, anyway."

"I know," I say quietly. His eyes flicker up to mine, pained. "I saw it, Arthur. In our field."

He lets out a shaky sigh. "I was wonderin' if ya found it. I let Bishop go around that area, so when ya said you came back with her I figured you must've gone there at some point."

I crouch down and place my hand on his own. "It was beautiful, though a little morbid." I try to make my tone teasing at the end, and though it does help to lighten the situation a little bit, I can tell it's still difficult for him to even think about. 

"I should probably go see if they need help with anythin' out there," he changes the subject and stands to his feet, his knees popping at the movement. "I'll be back shortly. Don't go too far, yeah?" 

I nod, knowing that he's probably just paranoid to let me out of his sight right now. "Don't overwork yourself, okay? Your lungs need to be healthy, not stressed out."

"Okay," he murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his soft lips to my forehead. I close my eyes and lean into the gesture, relaxing against him. He swipes his hat off the table and situates it on top of his head, giving me a small smile before walking out the door. I watch him go, unable to stop myself from worrying about him. I can tell that he's stressed, what about I'm not sure. Maybe it's the camp having to move again. Me coming back and shocking him probably didn't help, but then again I don't think it was a bad thing for him either. He can stop feeling so guilty now. 

I pack up the bedrolls that we slept on and carry them along with my duffel out to the wagons, putting them away carefully before going over to Bishop. I brush a hand along her neck before going over to Chewie and greeting him as well. Now I have  _two_  great horses. I'm so lucky. 

"Good morning," Kylie says as she walks over, her skirts swishing at her feet. "I'm surprised to see you and Arthur apart from one another. I figured you'd be locked in that room for at least a few more hours."

I roll my eyes at her teasing. "I could say the same about you and Javier."

She nonchalantly inspects her fingernails. "We slept outside last night. Something about the house being too crowded?" 

I let out a short laugh, continuing to stroke along Chewie's neck. He stretches and twists into my touch, as though he's missed me and can't get enough of it. 

"Do you know where we're going?"

Kylie purses her lips. "Beaver Hollow. You're going somewhere north of Annesburg--that's what Javier told me."

I narrow my eyes at her wording. "You're not coming with us?"

She frowns, folding her arms in front of her chest and looking back at the people in camp briefly. "I have the store in town...I can't just leave it. My friend, she gave me that store after she died, Lily. It would be an insult to her memory to just abandon it right now."

"So you're leaving us?" I ask, turning away from Chewie as the weight of her words begins to register in my mind. 

She worries on her bottom lip for a moment. "I don't want to...I really like these people." She lowers her voice. "I really like Javier. But I can't just pack up and leave as easily as you guys can."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, honestly." Kylie sighs, and I can tell that she's been thinking about this for a while. "Javier said he would stay behind with me, but I can't make him separate from you guys. He's too valuable. The Pinkertons don't know I'm associated with these people, or at least I hope they don't."

"You better hope," I say with a frown. I hadn't even thought of that. I look around us, trying to see if anyone is in hearing distance. Not satisfied, I grab her arm and drag her off into the woods towards the swamp away from camp. She follows along without a complaint but I can see that she's confused as to why I'm doing this. When we're finally far enough away I stop, dropping her arm and taking a deep breath. 

"You need to be careful, Kylie. I'm serious. If the Pinkertons find out that you know us at all, they'll use you to get to us. Maybe they won't even do that, they'll just kill you."

"I know, Lily. That's why Javier wanted to stay behind. He was worried something would happen." She frowns. "Why did you bring me here to tell me that?"

"Because I also need to tell you what happened." She straightens, her features pulling down. 

"About you dying."

"Yes." I let out a huff, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Agent Milton shot me in front of the bank. I wasn't expecting him to do that, but he did. Right in front of the others."

She sags a little bit. "I know. When the men finally got back from Guarma...they were quiet. Javier had gotten shot at that island, but Dutch and them...it was like a permanent gray sky had settled over camp. Arthur barely said a word when he finally got back, just briefly greeted everyone and went back to where Hosea was. Dutch told us that you had been killed in front of them. But now you're back and telling them you were only shot."

My face is grim. "I did get shot, but I died from it." I take a deep breath. "I went  _back,_  Kylie. I woke up in normal time."

She gasps, reaching forward and grasping my wrist tightly. "What?"

"I woke up in the hospital. The hospital that I  _work_  at. My friend, Cam, was there and told me I had been in a coma because I had a brain aneurysm.  _For a month."_

"A month?" She exclaims, and this is why I brought her so far from camp. "Lily, haven't you been here for longer than that?"

I nod. "I was here three months when I went back. And then I was only there for a week when I came back here. It's like one week there is equal to a month here."

She looks off to the side, her mouth open in shock and eyes unfocused. "That's insane..." She snaps back to me. "You  _died!?"_

My hand unconsciously drifts up to rub at the spot on my chest where that bullet pierced my body. "I did. Milton shot me right here. Nobody could've survived that, Kylie. And there's  _definitely_  no way that a doctor from this time period would have been able to save someone from a wound like that."

She tugs me against her, holding me in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. God, I sobbed when they told us you died. Everyone was upset."

"Everyone?" I can't help but joke even through the heaviness in my chest. 

"Micah was Micah, but that's nothing new," she says, her voice thick. She takes a deep breath and pulls back, her eyes red and watery. "I'm a little afraid to ask this, but did you find anything out about me?"

My lips thin into a line, and she deflates. "A car crashed into your house and you're on life support, Kylie. I'm so sorry."

She frowns, a tear slipping down her face even as her chin wobbles. "I just don't understand it. I don't understand what happened that  _we_  were sent here. That we had these  _awful_  things happen to us and for some reason ended up here, with these people."

I shake my head. "I don't know. You know just about as much as I do."

"But you're here now!" She points out. "You're back!"

"I wanted to come back, Kylie." I tell her softly, unsure if her opinion of being in this time has changed that much from when she last told me over a month ago. "I realized that I wouldn't be happy without Arthur."

"You decided to come back?" Her voice is just barely above a whisper now. 

I nod. "I know what happens. I did a lot of research before I came here. I did my best to prepare myself so that if I did manage to come back then I would be able to change the outcome, because it's not good."

"What do you mean?"

I feel the words get stuck in my throat. They're there and ready to spill, but I can find the strength to actually say it. It's as if saying it will make it actually true, will make everything that much more possible. And that's not what I came back to do. I came back so that those things  _won't_  happen.

"Just...bad things. I'm going to stop it. And in order to do that, I need to first make Arthur better. His tuberculosis gets worse, not better. And that's what I'm going to change. Then I'm going to deal with Micah."

"Micah?" She asks, dabbing at the moisture that's gathered at the corners of her eyes. "What did he do now?"

"It's what he's going to do--unless I'm too late and he's already done it." I frown. "I need to talk to Dutch about that, but it can wait until we get to this new camp."

 _"Lily?"_  Arthur's voice echoes through the trees, and the two of us turn back towards camp where it comes from. Kylie frowns at me even as we start walking back to camp. 

"He didn't want me to go too far. I don't want to stress him out by disappearing on him," I explain, and even though she nods in understanding I can tell she's upset about our conversation being cut short. 

When we exit the woods Arthur spots us from over by the horses. His face that had been pinched with nerves relaxes and his shoulders loosen. He stomps over to us, and I can see that he's concerned. 

"Everythin' okay?" He asks. 

"It's fine," I say reassuringly, reaching up and brushing my fingers across his jaw comfortingly. He leans into the touch just a hair, and then straightens after a few seconds, seeming to remember that Kylie is there as well. 

"Javier wanted to ask ya somethin'," he says gruffly, jerking his head towards the cabin. Kylie nods, gives a tight smile and then walks away. I can tell that her and I are going to talk a lot more once we get a free moment. 

"Was worried when I couldn't find ya," Arthur mumbles, pulling me into his side as we walk back to the horses. 

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere." I laugh softly. 

"I know. But ya told me that once before and I nearly lost ya. Thought I  _did_  lose you. 'Apologize if I'm a bit..."

"Paranoid?" I offer, and he nods grimly. I lean my head into his chest, my feet falling in step alongside his own. "That's okay. You're allowed to be."

He wraps both arms around me and together the two of us walk back to camp, ready to hitch up once more and move onto another chapter of our lives. 


End file.
